


Untitled (Collectors Items)

by ohcaroline



Category: Moonlight (TV)
Genre: 1950s, Angst, Backstory, Blood, Cheer Up Emo Kid, Cliche, Far Too Obsessed With Mick's Hair, Gratuitous Clothing Descriptions, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Original Character(s), Personal Canon, Personal Kinks, Prequel, Threesome - F/F/M, Threesome - F/M/M, Tropes, Vampire Fights, Vampire Sex, Whump, sexual healing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 12:54:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 55,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8162680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohcaroline/pseuds/ohcaroline
Summary: Josef tells the story of how he and Mick became friends. A head-canon prequel in first-person POV.





	1. Conception

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DulcetAsh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DulcetAsh/gifts).



> Written over the summer of 2011 as a gift to myself: a self-indulgent spree of my favorite vampire tropes, cliches, and personal kinks. As a bonus, I ended up with one of the best original characters I've ever created. I might use her in a novel someday.
> 
> note: The title and chapter headings are taken from Miles Davis' 1956 album Collectors Items.

_"I remember introducing you two. You thought he was a pompous jerk, and he thought you weren't cut out to be a vampire."_

_"Yeah, well, we were both probably right."_

_"And you were best friends anyway."_

* * *

 

The first time I laid eyes on Mick St. John, I knew I'd be cleaning up the mess for years.

Coraline had been bugging me for weeks about her latest human dalliance — I just had to meet him, she just knew I'd love him, blah blah blah. She'd really let herself get attached to this one; I hadn't seen her this girlish since the twenties. She never listened to me when it came to humans. She went from one pet to the next, toying with them, using them up, driving them crazy for her amusement, and eventually getting bored and leaving their corpse for the nearest Cleaner. No one could deny Cora her desires; whatever Princess wanted, Princess always got. But she'd had this one for the better part of a year, and according to her, he still didn't know what she was. That was something new. Keeping a human around that long without a single snack? What was the point? When she told me that, curiosity got the better of me, and I decided I might just take a look at this one after all and see what was so special about him. The minute I did, I knew everything was about to change.

That was August of 1952 — August in Los Angeles, when the nights are as long and hot as the days. I enjoy the heat in LA, to a point; I've seen enough of cold and snow in my time. I like a place where the plants never die and the windows light up with parties every night of the year. Plus I don't sweat, so that's a bonus. I spend too much money on my shirts to stain them up with blood, unless I'm having a really good time.

Coraline had installed an air conditioning unit at her place, a luxury by human standards but a necessity by ours. She kept her house as cold as a Grauman's matinee; nothing but the newest and best for our Princess. After all these years she still threw the best parties in town, and this one was no exception — it was long past midnight and her house was packed with beautiful people doing ugly things, the chilled air swirling with Miles Davis and hashish smoke. The usual crowd was in attendance: musicians, models, actors, celebrities. Nothing different there. What was different was that the hostess was missing in action. Coraline never neglected her guests; it was one of the reasons her parties were the best. She didn't mingle and she didn't linger — she supervised from a higher plane, sailing above the debauchery like rose petals in a water bowl, cool and perfect. But on this night I had to wade through the modernist furniture and drunk pinup girls and overflowing ashtrays and empty lipstick-smeared glasses to find her.

She was in the parlor, sitting on the arm of her favorite chaise, draped over it like a dress across the foot of a bed. Sitting next to her was a tall young human, about thirty from the looks of it, with curly brown hair falling in his eyes and his tacky shirt unbuttoned one notch too far. He sprawled in the chair with arrogant grace, a mess of awkward earnestness and obnoxious bravado, a tangle of contradictions as tightly wound as the curl Coraline twirled around her manicured finger. He gazed up at her with eyes the color of the Pacific in daylight, and I could see that he was already lost to her, doomed to drown in her mink-brown eyes forever, or at least until he died. I could see why she wanted him – that kind of surrender is exceptionally delicious, if a little too sweet for my taste. But when I looked at Coraline's face and saw her looking back at this kid, her black hair falling over his open collar, what I saw shocked me into silence. Which is saying something.

For a minute I stood there, watching them violate each other with their eyes, until the display grew too nauseating and I decided to make my presence known.

"Aren't you going to introduce me?"

Coraline looked up and beamed. "Josef! I'm so glad you came." She came over and gave me a fleeting hug, a swirl of red silk and Chanel No. 5, and then took my hand and drew me forward. "Josef, this is Mick St. John. Mick, this is Josef Kostan, the friend I was telling you about."

He looked up at me from under that hair. He was very drunk, I could see, and probably high from the hashish too. On his knee he clutched a glass of bourbon on half-melted ice, dripping cold water onto his dime-store chinos. Couldn't she at least have bought him a decent outfit?

"Mick," I said, with my most dazzling smile. I enjoyed how my voice made his jealous glare flush. "I've heard so much about you. You've swept my Cora quite off her feet." I put out a hand. "It's a pleasure."

He leaned forward and took the hand I offered, and when I squeezed just enough to hurt, he flinched but didn't jerk it back. He had spunk, I had to admit. Nothing makes a fool more brave than the favor of a woman like Coraline. She had seasoned him up like a holiday roast. He would be something to savor — the bird who thinks he's caught the cat. She sat next to him again as if she couldn't bear to be somewhere other than touching him; he kissed her quickly, his hand sliding up her thigh, and then he looked at me and grinned with one side of his mouth.

"The pleasure's all mine," he said.

As far as I was concerned, she couldn't kill him fast enough.

~

Some time around dawn, after most of the party-goers had left and the rest were sleeping it off in the guest rooms, I sat on one of Coraline's imported velvet chairs and watched her sip a glass of Grenache and A negative. I myself was on my third glass of slivovitz and O positive — this had been a straight party, no clandestine feeding, and I was famished after a night of being on my best behavior. Why she sometimes threw these little charades I never knew; there were plenty of vampires and willing humans in Los Angeles. I think she got off on the secret. The thrill of the masquerade was in her blood: her powdered wig was blood-laced wine and hashish smoke, her sequined mask red lipstick and Chanel No. 5. She sipped her drink and ran her finger around the edge of the glass, watching me. On the sofa beside her, Mick lay on his back with one arm behind his head and the other on his chest, snoring softly in the shadows. She had never left his side all night, both of them engrossed in a marathon of stomach-churning affection until the bourbon caught up with him an hour prior and Coraline and I settled in for a chat. From time to time she looked over at him like a mother checking on her sleeping infant.

"What do you think of him, Josef?"

I knew she didn't really care. She just knew that I knew what she wanted to hear. I'd learned a very long time ago that Coraline only heard what she wanted.

"I think he's crazy about you, Cora," I said. "I think you'll have a good time with him." I took a sip of my drink. "Just be careful — he looks like he could get messy. You just had the place painted."

Coraline looked down at Mick's face, his sharp features a mix of innocence and insolence even in sleep.

"I'm going to marry him," she said.

I choked on the slivovitz. _"What?"_ Someone nearby snorted and turned over; I quickly regained my composure. "I'm sorry, I think I inhaled a little too much of your party favors this evening. It sounded like you said—"

"I love him. He loves me."

"Whoa, hey, come on now—"

"He loves me, Josef. Me. Not all this." She waved a hand at the finery around us. "He doesn't care about any of this. He loves me for who I am."

"He doesn't know who you are," I said.

"Exactly." She brought her wine glass to her lips and held it there. "He doesn't know anything about me. Those days are behind me. Mick and I can start fresh."

I chose my next words carefully. Coraline and I were old friends, but I was no more immune to her tantrums than anyone else, and I enjoyed them even less. She was clearly infatuated with this human, much more so than her past conquests, but there had to be a way to make her see reason. Not that Coraline had ever been big on reason, but I had to give it a shot, if only to reserve my I Told You So card for later when everything turned to shit.

"Look, Cora, I know we all get a little lonely sometimes, I get that, and I know you have a soft spot for the down-on-their luck cases, but you know the vampire/human thing never works out. Enjoy him, sure, have a thing for a while, but seriously... love? Marriage?" I shook my head. "It's bad news, baby. You can't just up and marry a human. Especially one who doesn't know what you are."

She brushed a curl from Mick's forehead, traced the outline of his ear. Her fingers lingered along his exposed neck. "I know," she whispered.

I suddenly felt like someone had punched me in the gut. "Wait. Don't tell me you're thinking about turning this guy."

Her voice had gone all starry and soft-edged. "It will be my wedding present to him."

Oh, this was bad. This was beyond bad. This drove right past Badville full speed ahead to Trainwreck Junction. I set my glass on the coffee table and rubbed my face, my appetite gone.

"Coraline, listen to me, you can't do this. It's not going to go like you think it will. Look at him! You can't marry him first and then tell him you're a vampire after. What if he can't handle it?"

She looked at me. "Why wouldn't he want to be with me?"

Coraline was a great partner in crime, but I wanted to strangle her when she did that. I wanted to grab her and shake her until that little-girl pout left those red lips and she looked like a vampire again instead of a spoiled teenager.

"Of course he wants to be with you. Anyone can see that. But that's not love, sweetheart. That's obsession. This kid is obsessed with you, and you're obsessed with him, and if there's one thing I've learned in three hundred years it's that vampirism and obsession do not mix. Either tell him what you are and enjoy the fling, or kill him and enjoy the feed, but don't do this to yourself. He's going to end up dead, and you're going to end up hurt."

"I'll help him," she said. "This is different, Josef. He's not like the others. He's... he's something special."

I looked at him lying there with his cheap clothes and coffee house hair. Clearly she saw something in him that I didn't. He was good-looking, sure — pretty face, nicely built, interesting eyes. But I'd lived too long to think good looks was all a vampire needed to survive. We may have evolved with the times, but to exist on blood you need a bit of the killer inside you. You have to be a predator, not prey. And this kid might as well have been a rabbit in a lion's cage.

It was so insane I could barely get my head around it. Coraline, married. Married to a human so she could turn him on their wedding night. That sniveling little beatnik as a vampire. I couldn't count the number of things wrong with this picture. It was all too much.

"I'm going back to New York," I said. "I've been missing the old town. Why don't you come with me? Let me take you around the old places again. I promise you'll forget about this one — I'll get you a dozen to take his place."

She smiled. "You're sweet to worry for me."

 _Honey,_ I thought, _It's not you I'm worried about._

"It's going to be wonderful, you'll see. He won't have anything to worry about." She took one of my hands in hers, and the little-girl pout returned. "Oh Josef, say you're happy for me."

Nothing I could say would change her mind; I've never yet met anyone who had that skill. Coraline wanted this human, and she would have him, because Princess always gets her way no matter what the cost. I just hoped the poor bastard would self-destruct quickly and quietly before anyone else found out — the last thing Cora needed was to draw more attention to herself. The train was bearing down on Trainwreck Junction, and there was no way I was going to hang around and get blasted by the shrapnel. I gave up and shook my head.

"If you're happy, I'm happy," I said.

She smiled, and my mind was made up. I would go to New York, and I would wait for her to get this madness out of her system, and when the fireworks died out I would come back and help her hide the body like I'd done all those other times. What can I say, I'm a giver. But if there was one thing I knew with certainty, it was that a vampire and a human falling in love — or as close to love as this tunnel-visioned lust fest resembled — could never end well. I looked at Mick's face, turned in toward Coraline's hand as if seeking her touch, and I found myself almost feeling sorry for him.

~

I didn't think about Coraline and her pet again for over three years. I wished her well when I left for New York, and I genuinely meant it; she still had time to get over her fit of pique before anything messy happened, and for her sake I hoped that would be the case. Looking at her face as she told me goodbye, I doubted it. Mick, all sobered up and anticipating his wedding night, was perfectly civil and even smiled at me as he shook my hand — I think he was just glad to see me go. Poor schmuck. There was a chance he might make it through with a few brain cells still firing, but I doubted that too. I expected never to see him again.

I left Los Angeles that same month, August 1952, and took up in one of my usual haunts in Manhattan. When I didn't hear anything from Cora in the weeks that followed, I figured she'd taken care of the body on her own and was too embarrassed to tell me what happened. I could understand; that kind of disappointment can be hard to shake. That's why I avoided it like the noonday sun. I was just fine where I was, thank you very much — back in New York, out on the town, crazy human problems a thing of the past. I spent a year or two getting a feel for the place again; New York never changes, and it changes every night. I met up with old friends, people I've known since before this town had a name, and we had ourselves a hell of a time. It was almost like the old days again. Coraline's little experiment was the last thing on my mind.

And then I met Sarah.

Three hundred and fifty years, and I thought I'd seen everything there was to see in this life. None of it meant anything the first time I looked in her eyes. It was the spring of 1955, and with one request for a light in Grand Central Station, the whole universe changed. My rules no longer applied. I knew exactly what Coraline had meant. What she had felt. What she had wanted. I wanted it too. I wanted it more than anything, and like Cora, I would have it no matter what anyone said, against my own better judgment. Three hundred and fifty years, and I didn't think my heart was still capable of breaking.

But hey, let's not make this about me.

After that, I couldn't stand to be in New York anymore. I had to get out. I wanted to be somewhere else, somewhere hot, somewhere without snow. Sarah had planned a white Christmas for us. My first thought was to go back to LA; but as I was making the arrangements, I suddenly remembered Coraline. What if by some miracle she had got her way? What if she and Mick were vampire newlyweds frolicking around in eternal bliss? No way in hell was I getting within a thousand miles of that. I'd pick someplace else to crash for a while: Hawaii, Havana, the French Riviera. I had no desire to have my failure thrown in my face every night for the next few centuries. Not even I deserved that kind of punishment.

And then, one night in December, I got a call from Coraline.

"Josef," she said. "I need you."

"Well, this is an historic event."

Her voice was thin and shaky. "Josef, please — please, it's Mick. I need your help. You have to come back to Los Angeles. He's going to die, I don't know what else to do, I've got no one else to turn to. Josef, please come. Please don't let him die."

The flood of words stopped, and I blinked at the phone in silence. I could hear her tears over the crackling line. Several feelings ran through me, but they disappeared before I cared to register them. I opened my mouth to tell her no, and I told you so, and serves you right, and all kinds of witty things about making beds and reaping harvests and all that other stuff. None of it made it past my lips. I looked out the windows of my apartment; snow had beg un to fall over the city, white against black in the blurry streetlights. A white Christmas in New York.

"I'll be there tomorrow night," I said. "Don't worry, Cora. I won't let him die."


	2. Serpent's Tooth

I had a lot of time to think on the seven-hour flight to Los Angeles. My weird little burst of sensitivity had cleared up before I left my apartment; I spent most of the trip trying to decide whether to act smarmy or bitter when I finally saw Coraline. After the third Bloody Mary (the easiest drink to disguise on these long flights), I decided to go with both. I never did like limiting myself.

I wondered about that phone call, and what could have gotten her riled up like that. It had been three years since her venture into matrimony; obviously the turning had worked. So what had gone wrong? Why call me now? It looked like Princess had finally realized that being a sire isn't always what it's cracked up to be, especially when your new convert is also your new husband. The only mystery was why she had chosen me to help settle her lover's tiff when she knew I'd been against the whole thing from the beginning and didn't much care for her besotted groom. That curiosity was what really brought me back — that, and the fact that anything was better than staying in New York.

The LA sunset outside my car's windows perked up my mood considerably. At my age I can take quite a bit of sunlight, and though I try to stay out of it as much as possible, I like to be near it, if that makes sense. Big tinted picture windows, shady balconies, that kind of thing. I like watching the sun set over the Pacific from a chilled hotel room with a drink in my hand, feeling the night wind up. Driving down the coast in a '55 Corvette with the December air sharp in my face made me feel more like myself again. I got settled in the penthouse at the Casa del Mar and made use of a discreet source of provisions — three Bloody Marys would not be enough to get me through this night — and then I made my way over to Coraline's house to view the smoking wreckage for myself. She answered the door before I could ring a second time.

"The cavalry has arrived," I said.

She ignored my grin and pulled me inside. "Josef, thank God you're here. I didn't know if you'd come. I didn't know who else to call."

"Yeah, about that. Why did you call me, again?"

Her expression unsettled me; it matched her voice on the phone. Something really was wrong, like really wrong, wrong enough to turn her usual sullen petulance into genuine anxiety.

"He's gone," she said.

"Gone? Gone where?"

"He left last night just before I called you. He's done this before, but he always comes back in an hour or two. He can't usually... but this time I couldn't..." She must have seen the look on my face, because she looked away, embarrassed. Coraline was a woman who was used to being in complete control at all times, and losing control of a newborn was humiliating to the best of us.

"You're his sire," I said. "You don't need me to find him. You already know where he is."

"I didn't think I should go by myself. He's been... confused. He's having some trouble, and I thought maybe you could talk to him, you know, man to man — after all, you have such a way with people, and so if anyone came you could help me tell them—"

"Whoa, wait. Slow down. Tell who what?" My confusion turned to foreboding. "Cora, you gotta be straight with me. What exactly is going on here?"

Her nervous fluttering was rattling me; the Coraline I knew was calm, aloof, unflappable, not this flustered ghostly girl. She sat on a silk ottoman and lit a cigarette, but instead of smoking it she stared down at her fingernails and sighed.

"He tried to kill himself."

My jaw dropped. "What? You called me here for a suicide watch?"

"I stopped him the first few times, but he's become too much for me to handle. He's not himself, Josef. I think...I think people have started to notice. I think they're going to come for him."

I knew it. I _knew_ it. "Oh, Cora, baby." I rubbed the bridge of my nose. "You really got yourself in it this time." I had to hand it to her — she never did anything halfway. When she threw a party, no one could match her; when she fell in love, no one could resist her. And when she fucked up, no one could escape the consequences.

Not even me, apparently. I'd spent a cross-country flight perfecting my lecture, but all I could do now was shake my head. I'd expected this to happen, but now that it had, being right wasn't nearly as much fun as I'd hoped. I was irritated and tired, and all I wanted was a bubble bath and a nice cold bed, but I was here now, and Coraline was in way over her head. I took the cigarette from her hand and stubbed it out in the ashtray, and then I wiped the tear from her cheek with my thumb and tilted her chin up into the light.

"Well, come on, then," I said. "Let's go get him."

I can't pretend I went with her purely out of the goodness of my heart. Finding her broken toy was in my interest too — a rogue vampire is a dangerous thing, and if this one was attracting attention to himself, he could put us all in danger. Vampires don't live under our own little secret government like some people think, but we do have one unbreakable law: secrecy. Selected humans can know about us when it serves our purposes, but humankind as a whole has to remain unaware of our existence. Any vampire who violates this rule, intentionally or not, will be found and dealt with by any means necessary to keep our secret safe.

I knew that Coraline cared about this guy, and even loved him with her own crazy flavor of the word. Of course I didn't like seeing her so upset. But I knew this problem was not going to be solved the way she wanted, and she was going to have to get over it and move on. She wouldn't be the first vampire to fail at siring.

In the car she told me, in her Coraline way, what had happened over the past three years. The turning had been easy; he had the instinct for survival, and her blood was old and strong enough to bring him over before he realized what was happening. They had made love right after (I really didn't need to know that), and when he woke up the next morning, she explained what she had done and waited for the eternal bliss to begin. Instead, he freaked the hell out and ran away.

He was just confused, that's all — he didn't realize what a gift she had given him. She'd brought him food at first, fresh girls and then, when he proved squeamish, drawn blood until his hunting instincts kicked in. Except they never did. For three years she had fed him like a toddler, tempting him with treats from time to time only to be met with screaming tantrums. He just needed time, she was sure of it — he was just sensitive, he was a musician you know, they could be eccentric, all he needed was more time and maybe a little guidance from an outside party. He still loved her, she knew — she had proof of that on a nightly basis. (Again with the over-sharing.) But those were the only times she could control him. He had grown more depressed and erratic until sex and blood were no longer enough to keep him at her side. First he tried to kill himself with sunlight, but it was easy enough to pull him back from that when he was screaming in agony. Next he tried to starve himself to death, but a newborn's hunger was far too strong — and a newborn he still was, three years later, stunted and repressed by Coraline's need to keep him under her thrall. He'd made his first solo kill that night, and after that he lost it altogether. At that point she knew she needed outside help before someone saw him and got the wrong idea.

"So naturally you thought of...me."

"I know you didn't take to each other when you first met, but you'd like him if you got to know him. He could use a friend like you. You'd be a good influence on him."

"Yeah, hi, Josef Kostan, have we met?"

She smiled. "I mean it, Joey." I knew then how badly she wanted my help. Anyone else who called me Joey did so at the risk of their lives. She batted her eyes and put her hand on mine where it rested on the gear shift. She was pulling out the big guns now. "I think it would be good for you, too. You could use a friend right now. I know how hard it must be for you—"

"OK, OK, I get the point. I'm here, aren't I? Let's just find your hubby and get back to Hollywood before I get any more sick to my stomach. What is that smell?"

We had parked in the bowels of a rather seedy-looking stretch of docks on the south side — "bowels" being the key word, as the place smelled like a cross between a sewer and a slaughterhouse. Beyond the streetlight was a dark mildewed maze of warehouses and alleys littered with moldy crates and slimy rope. I sighed. Why did they always pick places like this?

"They process fish here," Coraline said. "It's empty at night."

"The last time I smelled something like this, a cart came by asking me to bring out my dead." I shut the car door and pocketed the keys. "If we find him drinking fish blood, I am out of here."

After a few steps she stopped and tilted her head, listening. I watched her look around, and then she pointed and whispered, "He's down there."

Something clattered in the dark — he had sensed her presence too. Before we reached the mouth of the alley, a hoarse voice shouted, "Leave me alone."

"Mick, honey, it's me," Coraline said redundantly. "Come on, sweetheart, let's go home."

"I'm not going anywhere with you. Leave me alone."

I could smell him now, above the rest of it — old, stale blood, crusted over with fear and desperation. It made my stomach turn. I put a hand to my nose against the reek.

"Honey, you can't keep doing this," Coraline crooned. She sounded like she was soothing a frightened baby. "It's dangerous. Let me take you home and I'll make everything better."

"Go away," Mick croaked. "Just go away."

Around a stack of crates we found him, hunched against the wall with his knees to his chest. His hair hung in strings around his face; his skin was smeared with several kinds of blood in various stages of coagulation. None of it was human, judging by the smell; what kind it was, I had no desire to know. He looked up at us with a face that hid nothing from anyone — his frantic eyes reflected the white streetlight filtering in from the docks, and his fangs scratched his mouth when he gasped and scrabbled backward.

I had seen this before. It was never a pretty sight. At least there weren't any fish corpses lying around; and since I couldn't smell any human blood, chances were good there weren't any bodies to clean up either. It appeared Coraline had dodged the bullet this time, but we had to get him out of public view as quickly as possible. He saw me then, standing next to Coraline, and he scooted away from us, growling.

"Mick, sweetie, you remember Josef, don't you?"

He stared at me from under his filthy hair, and a drop of blood-tinged saliva ran down his chin.

"Charmed, I'm sure," I said. "Let's save the reunion for later, shall we? Preferably after you've bathed." I stuck a hand out. "Come on, time to go."

His eyes flashed. "Get the hell away from me."

"Look, slugger, I'd be happy to oblige, but I promised Cora here that I'd get you back to her place. Personally I don't care if you off yourself, but running around like this is not good for any of us. So you can come back with us now, or I can save us all the trouble and kill you myself. I'm good either way."

A truck rumbled down the street outside. The headlights made Mick flail back and cry out, hiding his face behind his arm. Coraline looked nervously behind us. "Josef," she whispered.

"Look, Mick, I know what you're going through here," I said. That was almost entirely false, but I made it sound fairly sincere. "We can help you out, but not as long as you're doing the Nosferatu thing. Now we can do this the easy way or the hard way, but we're doing it now. So let's go."

I stooped to grab his arm; he jerked away from me and screamed, "Don't touch me!" Drops of blood and spit rained across the toes of my Gravati blüchers.

"To hell with this," I said. "Look Cora, I'm not—"

When I touched her arm, Mick snarled and leaped at me.

He had been a vampire for three years; I had been one for three centuries. He was out cold before he hit the ground, and I stood over him and rubbed my smarting knuckles.

"Ouch."

I wiped my shoes on his shirt, and then I threw him over my shoulder and turned to face a gaping Coraline. "What, you thought I was going to say please? Come on, let's get out of here."

She made sure the coast was clear, and together we got her inert disheveled husband wedged into the tiny back seat of the Corvette. She climbed in beside him; I sniffed my jacket and made a disgusted sound before peeling it off and tossing it in with them. Coraline held Mick's head in her lap, stroking his dirty face.

"Everything's going to be OK," she murmured.

"You owe me a suit," I said, and started the car.

~

I carried Coraline's unconscious hubby up the lighted garden walkway to her front door. Whatever he had fed on that night wasn't nearly enough, and my fist had done the rest; he twitched and mumbled in my arms, smearing blood on my collar while I tried not to vomit on him. Cora kept watch as she unlocked the door; not a soul was in sight at this late hour. She turned on the lights, and I followed her with my cargo into the living room.

Three vampires were waiting for us there.

Coraline hissed when she saw them — the one on the left came toward her, and I dropped Mick on the floor and moved to back her up. The one on the right came for me; I clenched my fists and waited for him, fangs bared.

"Stop," said the man in the center. He held up a hand, and the other two instantly backed off. When things calmed down, he spoke again.

"Coraline. We must talk."

I took a step forward, but she put a hand on my arm. "It's alright. I know him."

He was tall, dressed all in black, with the same dark coloring and angular features as Coraline, the same regal bearing. One of his eyes was solid black like onyx, his brow and cheek split by a dark brown scar. He was definitely old blood; you could feel the power coming off him in waves. But I was no newborn myself, and I didn't take kindly to threats, no matter who delivered them.

"Lance, please," Coraline said. "Let me explain."

At my feet, Mick began to cough. He pulled himself forward a few inches, then groaned and curled into the fetal position, semi-conscious and shivering. Lance, whoever he was, looked down at him in disgust.

"This is what you wasted your blood to create? This is what you brought into your family without consent or permission?"

"He's not well," Coraline said.

"I know. We all know. Everyone knows."

She tried again. "I know what this looks like, but it's not what you think. He's just having a hard time right now. Let me help him, and you'll see that he—"

"What I see is that once again you've put your own selfish desires above the demands of your blood."

I couldn't keep quiet any longer. "Cora, who is this guy?"

"It's a long story," she said.

Lance chuckled. "Indeed. You should have known we would come when we found out."

She stepped in front of Mick and stood her ground, defiant. "I won't let you take him. He's mine, not yours, mine, and I'm allowed to sire whoever I want just like anyone else."

"Ah, but you are not anyone else. You must be more selective, and above all you must have permission."

"I hate to interrupt," I said, "But are you guys some kind of vampire police or something?"

Lance smiled. "More like private security. I solve problems. Coraline here has created a problem." He looked at the trembling form on the floor. "This creature is not worthy of our blood. He is a liability. He will put us all in danger."

"I love him."

"Please. I've been hearing that since the Revolution." Lance sneered. "You don't know how to love, my dear sister. You only know how to want."

He had her on that one, I had to— wait, did he just say 'sister'?

"I can fix this," Coraline said. She sounded like a little girl who had broken a cookie jar and was pleading her way out of punishment. "I can make it right, Lance, please, just let me—"

"You had your chance, my dear. We've been watching you. You sullied your body with this human, and then you sullied your blood with him, and then you let him degrade into this. You know I can't let him live."

"No!" Coraline cried.

"Would you rather I took you both to _him_? Would you rather explain yourself there?"

Whoever _he_ was, the mention of him made Coraline look truly afraid.

"No," she whispered. "No, I can't do that."

"Then I have no choice. Without a proper sire this vampire is going to go mad, and then I won't be the only one who has a problem with him. You obviously aren't up to the task, and who else could fix what you've done? Look at him, Coraline — he wants to die. Let him."

Her eyes paled. She bared her teeth and took a step closer. "No. I want him. He's mine."

Lance mirrored her, toe to toe, his dead eye sparkling while the pale one flashed dangerously. "Not anymore."

On the floor beside them Mick lay unnoticed, a toy fought over by squabbling siblings. I looked at him lying there, and for the first time I saw how pathetic he was — not human, but not a true vampire, wallowing in a gray limbo made of Coraline's manipulations. Nobody deserved that, not even a greasy beatnik who wore bad clothes and had no better sense than to fall in love with a woman like Cora. He'd never even had a chance. Three years since he'd been turned, and he had never woken up either.

"There's no other way," Lance was saying. "Who else would take him? Hm? Who would be willing to clean up the mess you've made?"

"I will."

Coraline said: "What?"

Lance said: "What?"

I thought: _What?_

To this day I still don't know why I did it. It's not like I had a sudden change of heart; I still thought putting Mick out of his misery was the kindest option. I was as convinced as ever that he would never make it as a vampire. I guess, muddled as I was by recent events, I just thought he at least deserved the chance to try.

"Let's be reasonable here," I said. "Why don't we all just take a breath and calm down. Nobody has to die tonight. I'll take Mick with me for a couple of days — he can get hold of himself without any distractions, and I can make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."

Coraline touched my arm. "You would do that for me?"

 _I'm not doing it for you, baby-cakes,_ I thought.

To Lance I said, "I know she turned him without his consent. I don't like it any more than you do. Now I don't know anything about your family drama here, but I do know that Mick is a vampire, and he has a right to find out if he can cut it on his own. If he can't, he'll die. If he can, you won't hear any more about it. Either way, your problem is solved."

Lance stared down at Mick for a long time. Coraline waited beside me, tense and silent. Finally Lance looked at me and smirked. "Why do I get the feeling this is not the last time I'm going to come across this vampire?"

"Hey, he's your family," I said.

He frowned at that, but he knew I was right. He was way too proud of his precious bloodline to waste a single drop if it might not be necessary. We both knew from experience that one could never have too many allies.

He pointed at Cora. "You stay away from him until he chooses to return to you." She started to say something, but he cut her off. "If you want him to live, leave him alone. Living with you would drive anyone mad. If he loves you like you say, he'll come back to you. I can see this one is old enough to watch out for him until then — let him go, or I'll kill him right now and be done with it."

Coraline knew she was beaten. She glanced at Mick forlornly, and I couldn't help but feel a little bit sorry for her. But, she had no one but herself to blame for this mess, and she had left herself no other options to fix it. She sighed. "Alright."

Lance gestured to his two minions, and they headed for the door. "I can't guarantee I won't be back," he said. "You're lucky I'm feeling sentimental tonight. But you will still have to answer one day for what you've done, Coraline. You know he won't forget."

"I know," she said.

He stopped beside her and touched her cheek. Apparently he wasn't made entirely out of pretentious authority. "You always did get your way, sister," he said. "No one could ever refuse you."

"It'll work out, I promise," she told him. "You'll see. Mick loves me."

"Of course." Tender moment over, Lance turned to me. "You'll keep them separated until he can act like a civilized vampire?"

"Another night of this and I'll kill him myself."

Lance chuckled. "Good luck. We'll be watching." And to Coraline: "You should tell your little pet he owes his life to this vampire. He's lucky you have such a friend."

"Oh, don't worry, I plan to make sure he knows," I said.

When they were gone, Coraline sat on the nearest chair and put her shaking hands to her mouth. I went over to check on Mick. He appeared to be asleep, curled in around himself, exhausted from his excursions. I squatted in front of him and peered into his face. Poor sap. I didn't know if I had just helped him or extended his misery. Instant death, or eternal life married to Coraline? I know which one I'd choose.

She stood behind me and touched my shoulder. "Josef..."

"No, please, don't thank me." I stood up and rubbed the back of my neck. I could smell Mick on my hands. "No really, I mean it. I can't believe I haven't already changed my mind." I looked down at my new charge and shook my head; it was lucky for both of them that I'm just a big softie at heart. I gave Cora my best grin.

"Hey, don't worry, I'm not running a nursery here," I said. "I'm sure you'll have him back before you know it. Like you said, he just needs some time, and we all have plenty of that. Now say goodbye and help me get him cleaned up before he gets back in my car. Tomorrow you can have his stuff sent to the penthouse at the Casa del Mar. Whatever stuff he has."

I spotted a half-empty tumbler of bourbon sitting on an end table. With a heavy sigh, I picked it up and downed it in one gulp.

"And while you're at it, you can pay the bill."


	3. Nature Boy

Vampires like to sleep in the cold. Nowadays we have all sorts of technological gadgets for our modern comfort — freezer coils in bedroom walls, hospital chiller blankets, moisture-proof fabrics — but in 1955 it was either a tub of ice or a chest freezer with a mattress in it. I used both, depending on the circumstances; some vamps find it too messy waking up submerged in half-melted ice, but when you've spent a few decades sleeping in a moldy cellar next to frozen rats, trust me, ice water feels like luxury. Just like our need for blood, we have sources that cater to our need for custom sleeping arrangements; my penthouse at the Casa del Mar had a king-sized bed in the master suite made up with silk sheets, and in the dressing room nearby was a queen-sized freezer lined with cushions that didn't crinkle in the cold. Mick spent his first night at my place tucked up in that freezer, while I opened all the windows and stretched out naked on the bed to enjoy the late December cold snap. The weather was too nice, and I figured Mick could use a good day's rest; he had been in pretty bad shape the night before, and God only knew how he'd react when he woke up and rolled over to see not Coraline looking back at him, but yours truly.

Actually I was kind of looking forward to that part.

It was some time after 5pm when I heard a thump from the dressing room. I'd been up and dressed for a while; some vampires need more sleep as they get older, but I've found I need less. I'd been watching the sun set through the balcony drapes, enjoying a drink in the winter air and listening for a sign that my guest was awake; when I heard it I set down my drink, picked up two glasses from the bar, and walked into the dressing room.

There was another thump as I entered, then a plonk and a muffled exclamation. I chuckled as I set the glasses on the vanity and hoisted up the freezer lid. Mick popped up like a curly-haired jack-in-the-box, clutching his forehead. The light made him jerk back and swear.

"Good morning, sunshine," I said.

He flinched and squinted at me, blurry-eyed, then looked down at himself as he realized that A) he was naked in someone else's bed and B) that someone was not his wife. He opened his mouth, closed it, and then covered up with both hands and quirked an eyebrow at me.

"Where's Coraline?"

I smiled. "The honeymoon's over, slugger."

He started to reply, but then he suddenly went pale and put a hand to his mouth. I picked up the two glasses I'd brought in with me: one was filled with cold O positive, and the other fizzed with two Alka-Seltzer. I poured the former into the latter and held it out to him.

"Here. It'll settle your stomach."

He downed about half of it before stopping with a disgusted expression.

"I didn't say it would taste good."

He managed the rest, grimacing, and when I took the empty glass from him, he eyed me from a slightly more lucid face. "I know you."

"Do you?"

"You're that jerk from Coraline's party." He did some kind of weird sniffing thing in my direction. "You're like us."

"Well, technically you're like me, but yes. Name's Josef, by the way."

He studied me for a few more seconds, his brow furrowed in fuzzy concentration. He closed his eyes and sniffed again, then again, long and slow, and then his eyes snapped open and he looked around wildly.

"Coraline! Cor—" He jumped out of the freezer and promptly fell on his ass.

"Hey, hey, take it easy. She's not here." I snagged a robe from its hook and dropped it where he sat. "Put this on. It's all I have that'll fit you until your stuff gets here."

He looked up at me from a tangle of limbs and paisley silk. "Where's Coraline?"

"I told you, she's not here. You're bunking with me for a few days. Now put that on and I'll tell you—"

"I want to know where she is! You bring her here, you take me to her! Cor—"

He tried to make a break for it, but I was too fast for him. Before he could get the rest of her name out of his mouth I had him against the wall with an arm across his throat and a knee in more dangerous areas. His eyes paled in an instant, but I kept my cool.

"Hey — hey! Coraline is fine. She knows you're here. Now I suggest you calm down and let me explain what's going on." He tried to fight me, and I slammed him back hard enough to get his attention. "Listen — hey! Stop it! Look at me!" I held his eyes until the wild look in them started to focus; he huffed and puffed, but he stopped pushing back.

"This isn't going to get you anywhere. Cora asked me to do this. You remember that? Think hard. I know you want to go back to her, but first you have to prove you can go more than thirty seconds without acting like a rabid poodle. You understand me? Now are we gonna go through this again, or are you ready to calm down and use your big boy words?"

I waited until his eyes finally cooled, and when I judged he had hold of himself, I eased up and then let him go. He shrugged free of me and shoved his hair back from his face with both hands.

"OK, then," I said.

I smoothed down my wrinkled shirt sleeves, and when I looked up, he drew back a fist and socked me across the jaw.

"That's for hitting me last night."

As I rubbed my chin, I couldn't stop myself from grinning. "Fair enough."

~

We sat by the wet bar — the sunset through the open balcony made him nervous — and over two glasses of cold O positive I filled in for him what he couldn't remember from the night before, including how close he had come to getting his death wish granted and how he had come to find himself sleeping in my closet. Mick got quieter and quieter as I went on; for a minute I thought he might try to bolt again, but he had apparently collected his wits enough to realize running around naked in a paisley silk robe might not be the wisest course of action. He didn't try to run, and he didn't try to jump me or start screaming or go nuts in any other way. He just sat there in silence, hunched in the chair and staring off into space, his sharp nose twitching occasionally as his scowl deepened.

"So you're not a prisoner or anything," I finished. "That's not how this works. As soon as you're up to it, you're free to go back to Coraline."

Through his teeth, Mick said, "I hate her."

"Or not." I shrugged. "Hate, love, they're so hard to tell apart. Especially with Cora."

His voice was barely audible. "She turned me into a monster."

"I'm going to avoid taking that personally because I know you're under stress right now." I sipped my drink. "But I can understand why you're pissed off. I know she turned you without your consent, and that's not kosher for us. We all have to be given the choice."

"Choice?" He jerked his head up to look at me. "Who in God's name would choose this?"

"Me," I said. "I chose it quite happily, thank you, and I've never regretted it. The alternative was...less appealing." At the expression on his face, I had to smile. "Look man, I can't blame you for being turned off by what Coraline did to you. That's not the way it's supposed to work. I can see why you didn't want to go on like that — who would? But see, that wasn't living. You have no idea what being a vampire is really like — now you have the chance to find out."

Mick looked unconvinced. The longer he sat there, the more I could see all his ghosts coming back to haunt him. Time for a new tactic. I set my empty glass on the table and rubbed my hands together. "Well I don't know about you, but I'm still hungry. I think it's time to move on from the cold O-pos, how about you?"

He pushed back violently from the table. "No! Not that, I won't do that!"

"Calm down, that's not what I meant. I'm fresh out of virgins tonight. Just hang out right there."

I took our glasses to the bar and gave him a minute to compose himself. There was a nice little kitchenette behind the counter: miniature icebox, coffee pot, hot plate, all the trimmings. I opened the icebox and took out a brown glass bottle; Mick watched me warily as I held it up and gave it a little shake.

"Cold blood. I don't mean the fridge — that's what we call this. Cold blood, drained at morgues from the dearly departed and sold to us on the cheap." I made a face. "Strictly bargain basement. It's good for emergencies, but I don't know anyone who actually likes it. I gave it to you because I was pretty sure you were going to upchuck it anyway. Thank you for not, by the way."

I stuck the bottle back in the fridge without refilling our glasses; instead, I reached for the coffee pot. It was a specially modified little number I'd had sent over with my things from New York, and it was one of my favorite gadgets — even in 1955, I loved vampire tech. I plucked the percolator off the top and reached inside, where a sealed container floated ready and waiting in the 98.6 degree water.

"There's also drawn blood — hospital supplies, the stuff you get from blood banks. I use that for mixers sometimes. But this — this is what I prefer to keep around." I opened the container and sniffed the contents with a smile. "Donated blood. Given voluntarily by willing humans for, well, let's just say suitable compensation."

Mick's eyes had gone wide. I brought the container back with me to the table; he took the glass I held out to him, and when he sniffed it, his eyes grew even bigger and his mouth fell open. I clinked my glass against his and grinned. "Cheers."

He took a sip, and then his eyebrows shot up and he drank half the glass in a single greedy slurp. I laughed. "I know, huh? Not as good as fresh, but then, nothing is. No, no, don't make that face again, you're not ready for that yet. We'll save that for a future occasion, after you've had some time to get used to all this. I have a feeling Coraline didn't teach you restraint."

A pained look lined Mick's face. He wiped his mouth and looked away.

I sighed. "You have to understand, Cora's from the old school. So am I, but I'm also a man of the world — I like to think I've adapted with the times. In the old days we didn't have cops or fingerprint kits or TV news or any of that jazz. Things are different now. It's in our best interest to be practical. There's really no need to kill humans anymore — not on purpose, anyway."

"She never told me that."

"There's probably a lot she didn't tell you. Look, Mick, I know this is a lot to deal with. This is exactly why we don't turn people without their permission. But that part's over now, and you're going to have to accept it and get on with your life. You're a vampire. That's not going to change. There's no way to go back. But I'm telling you that it doesn't have to be like it was. I think you owe it to yourself to find out." This sentimental thing was becoming annoying. More sharply I said, " I don't stick my neck out for just everyone, you know. I didn't save your sorry ass for nothing."

He looked at me. "Why did you?"

I shook my head. "When I figure that out, I'll let you know."

Mick pushed his glass away and put his elbows on the table, dropping his head into his hands. He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. "I don't think I can do this, Josef."

"Sure you can. You haven't even scratched the surface of what you can do." I drained my glass and wiped my mouth. "And, uh, speaking of what you can do... What exactly is that sniffing thing all about?"

He looked up. "Oh. Um. I don't know. I haven't really figured that out. I can just... smell stuff, now. I can smell everything."

"Apparently not last night," I said.

He glared at me. "Why did it have to be you I got stuck with?"

"You're just that lucky."

I checked my watch; the moon had risen between the balcony drapes, and Mick's things would be arriving from Coraline's house any time. "So what do you say?" I asked. "Run with old Josef for a while and see what it's really like to be a vamp in this town?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Yes," I told him. "This time you do."

He looked at me for a long time, and then he looked down into his abandoned drink. Quietly, he said, "I miss her."

"I know, slugger," I said. "Love and hate. So hard to tell apart."

~

I figured the hall closet would be the best place for Mick's things for the time being; it was small, but I had a feeling there wouldn't be much to put in it. I was right. When the bellboy finally knocked, he was carrying two mid-sized suitcases that looked like they'd just fallen off a Greyhound bus from somewhere. As I tipped him I asked, "That's everything?

"Yes sir," he squeaked. "Oh, and this too." He pulled an envelope from his jacket and replaced it with my tip. "Have a good night, Mr. Kostan."

When the kid left, I opened the envelope and pulled out a sheet of gold-edged stationery spritzed with Chanel No. 5. Coraline's handwriting curled across it in large loops. _Get well, my love, and come back to me soon. I love you forever. C._ I tossed the note on the end table and shook my head. Princess always had to have the last word.

By the time Mick strolled from the bathroom with a towel around his waist and scrubbing at his hair with another, I had the contents of both suitcases laid out across the sofa.

"Hey, do you mind?" Mick snapped.

"This is worse than I thought," I said. "Seriously, are you kidding me with this stuff?" I surveyed his wardrobe with dismay: three pairs of chinos, two pairs of dungarees, three Hawaiian shirts in varying degrees of hideousness, two old polos, and a wad of grubby-looking A-shirts. I shuddered. "It's like Martin Denny got in a fight with Marlon Brando." I picked up a worn loafer between two fingers. "Four years with Coraline, and she never took you shopping?"

"There was more, but it got... messed up. We couldn't get the—"

"Yeah, OK, I get it. I've had enough of the gory details." I dropped the shoe and wiped my hand on the couch. "Well, I did tell them I'd make up for what Coraline neglected. If you're going to be a proper vampire, we need to get you dressed like one."

He scoffed. "What, like you? No way, man. I'm not a stiff. I don't wear suits." He gestured at my freshly-pressed pinstriped trousers. "You expect me to go around looking like that?"

"Everyone needs a goal," I said. "But we'll aim a little lower for now. I don't suppose you have any money?"

Mick sat on the arm of the couch, toweling his hair. "I don't know. I was pretty much broke when I met Coraline, and since then I haven't really thought about it. Honestly I have no idea."

"Don't sweat it. We'll get you set up on your own; I know a little bit about finance. Until then, consider this an act of selfish charity. I can't be seen with a vampire who looks like Lenny Bruce on a bender."

That rankled him. "Look, I don't know what your problem is, but don't talk to me like I'm some kind of bum off the street. I'm not any less than you just because I don't dress like a square. I was a soldier, you know. I fought in the war."

"So did I," I said. "The Thirty Years' War, but still."

He opened his mouth to reply, and then it just stayed open. He stopped toweling his hair. Eventually, he said, "How old are you?"

"Three hundred and fifty six, last June."

Mick's hands fell into his lap. He blinked at me in stunned silence. I watched the realization finally hit him, and I grinned. "Now you're starting to get it."

I slapped him on the back and left him there while I went over to the bar. I poured myself a tumbler of slivovitz and filled another with ice. "You drink bourbon, right?"

"I — yeah, I used to, but—"

"I thought so." I opened a half-empty bottle of Woodford and poured him a double. "We can't digest food, you know, not even liquid stuff like soup or milk — but someone up there likes us, because we can hold our liquor just fine. Given the past 24 hours, you could probably use a drink." As I handed him the tumbler, I added, "But I don't recommend getting drunk — if you think it's ugly when humans vomit, you should see a vampire do it."

Mick tasted the bourbon and closed his eyes in bliss. "Oh, man, I forgot how good that was."

"Drink up," I said, "And then get dressed and we'll go out and pick you up a few things."

"What, right now?"

"There is a distinct lack of toiletries in those suitcases, and I don't share my toothbrush. Besides, it's Christmastime — everything's open late." I sipped my drink and added, "And maybe we'll just swing by Brooks Brothers on the way back. Surely they have a sale rack."

He chuckled over his ice cubes. It appeared his reunion with bourbon had greatly improved his outlook. I grinned; we would get along just fine.

I walked over to the balcony and spread the drapes as far as they'd go. Cold sea air blew in, stirring them in their hooks; in the center of the cloudless sky, a full moon lit the ocean with silver edges, and the yachts out for night cruises were all strung with holiday lights. I could hear a Dean Martin song floating up on cigarette smoke from somewhere a few floors down, drifting over the sound of passing traffic and crashing waves.

"Christmas in LA," I said. "I love this town."

After a minute, I heard Mick's voice behind me. "Me too."


	4. Round Midnight

Now that I knew I'd be staying in LA for more than a few days, I moved us over to the house I owned in Malibu. Things would get cramped in that penthouse, and two men living in a one-bedroom hotel room was not a good way to avoid drawing attention to yourself in 1955. I had some things flown over from New York, and then I drove us up the Pacific Coast Highway in my Corvette and got settled back into my terraced master suite overlooking the ocean. The house had plenty of guest rooms, and Mick chose one that faced the beach, which I took as a good sign. The room was fitted with blackout curtains and an air conditioning unit, and in the dressing room we installed the queen-sized freezer from the penthouse, made up with new linen bedding at Mick's request. The silk reminded him too much of Coraline.

I checked into his finances, and sure enough, he was as broke as he'd assumed. I collected what little he had and added it to a lump sum from Cora — call it vampire alimony — and had my people get it going for him. He might have been a broke musician, but he was a proud guy, and I knew he wouldn't tolerate living on my charity for long. Which was good, because I wouldn't tolerate being charitable for long.

Those first few days were a roller-coaster for Mick, but it was a quiet roller-coaster without all the screaming and flailing. Without Coraline around constantly messing with his head (and other parts), he had a chance to really open his eyes and look around for the first time in three years. It was like being turned all over again. I'd catch him staring at himself in the mirror, examining his teeth and eyes, his skin texture and muscle tone. He'd stand on the front terrace for hours on end, staring at things, listening to them, and sometimes he'd close in his eyes and draw in a long breath or two through his nose. I hadn't asked him any more about that bit — all vampires can smell the scent of humans and other vamps, so I figured he was just learning how to work it. But then one night, in the middle of one of those inhalations, he suddenly jerked like he'd been startled by a loud noise. He grabbed the railing and craned his neck to peer down the beach, and it looked like he was about to launch himself over the cliff and onto the sand.

I grabbed him by the arm. "What is it?" He didn't respond, and I shook him until he snapped out of it. "Hey! What's wrong?"

"I don't know. I saw something. A boy, I don't know, it—" He sighed. "It's gone. It's nothing."

The next day, I read in the paper that a little kid had fallen from a fishing boat a mile down the beach, pulled from the water by his father at the last second. When I showed the story to Mick, his eyes went wide.

"Was that what you saw?"

"I don't know. How could I have?"

"You said it yourself, you can 'smell stuff' now. I see you doing it all the time. Looks like you have a gift." He looked rather flabbergasted, but I shrugged. "I've heard of things like this, but I haven't come across it much. Trust you to be different."

"Well — I — what am I supposed to do with it?"

"Use it to play the ponies. How should I know? Look, if it bothers you, then don't breathe. Some people might think it was an advantage. I guess we can't all be blessed with charm and style."

He didn't talk much about it after that, and I didn't ask. He had enough on his plate to deal with besides a supernatural sense of smell. The past three years had been a haze of death and despair, and now he had to reconcile that interlude with the human he was before and the vampire he would become. Whoever that might be, he would have to figure out.

As I'd figured, Coraline had taught him next to nothing about what he was. With me he saw that the sun, while deadly, was not instantly lethal; he had no tolerance, but it would come in time, and soon he could sit by open doors and windows without panicking. One day he started asking me the most ridiculous questions, and I realized that the entirety of his knowledge of our species came from movies he'd half-watched while making out with girls. I hadn't watched a movie since Garbo retired, so I had no idea about all the Technicolor nonsense flying around in drive-ins and midnight shows. I mean, come on — garlic? Really? After being reassured that the mere sight of a crucifix would not cause him to burst into flames, he seemed to feel a little better about things. I guess thinking you're damned to eternal hell fire would kind of put a damper on your outlook.

I don't really do the advice thing, but I told him the gist of what I'd learned in going on four centuries. Being a vampire is really very simple: stay out of the sun, throw out your silver jewelry, don't stand next to the fire, and never eat in public. Everything else is fine tuning.

In the second week into his stay at Chez Kostan, I walked past Mick's room to find him up earlier than usual. He sat in his shorts in a lounge chair drawn up beside the bars of light coming in from the open terrace doors, watching the descending sun turn the Pacific to orange and gold. In the glow I could see the tracks of dried tears on his face. Not a good day, then. When he didn't catch a whiff of me and turn around, I watched him for a minute, and then I stepped inside.

"Working on your tan?"

He didn't look at me at first, and when he did, his face was pinched with misery. Missing Coraline, poor guy. Or mourning the sun, or craving a cheeseburger, or in some other way all alone beweeping his outcast state. Whatever it was, he looked so bad that I couldn't help feeling a little sorry for him.

"You alright?"

"I lost my guitar," Mick said.

"Oh. Of course. How ridiculous of me."

My sarcasm didn't faze him. He turned back to stare at the sea. "I didn't bring it with me on the honeymoon. I haven't seen it in three years — they probably threw it out with all the other stuff at my old place when I never came back. I was just sitting here thinking that it's been three years since I played, and then I realized, those guys in the band, I'm probably never gonna see them again. No more Saturday wedding gigs, no more busking on the beach on Sunday mornings. They'll never know what happened to me. Those guys — they're gonna grow old, and they're gonna die, and I'll still be sitting here in the dark without a guitar. The kid who dropped off my groceries, the old lady whose lawn I used to mow, the guys at the music shop, the redhead who gave me free soda at the fountain — they're all gonna die, and I'll still be here."

"That's true."

He glared at me. "Thanks for the pep talk."

"Hey," I shrugged, "It could be worse. You could have had a family."

He stared in silence, but he didn't ask. I didn't give him time to.

"Look," I said, "You have to stop defining yourself by what you were. The things humans use to label themselves — politics, religion, family — those things have no meaning for us. How old you are. What you do for a living. Whether you have kids. What you like to eat. What you're allergic to. What you do in bed, and who you do it with. Vampires don't have to be any certain thing. We just are. The human you were — that guy is gone. Everyone who knew him will be gone too. All that's left is you."

"Then who am I supposed to be now?"

"Well that part's up to you, my man. All I'm saying is, whoever he is, you're going to have to start being him sometime."

I seemed to be making him feel worse; I was never good with the whole encouragement thing. I decided it was time to switch subjects.

"What you need is a change of scenery. You've been moping around here with nothing to do but think about all the things you've lost. Don't you think it's time you start finding out what you've gained?"

"Like what?"

"Don't you know what day it is?" When he shook his head, I grinned. "It's New Year's Eve, Mick. The city awaits."

"No," he said. "The last thing I need right now is a bunch of drunk people kissing at midnight."

"No, see, that's exactly what you need. And I know the perfect place. I go to this party every New Year's Eve when I'm in LA, and I intend to go tonight too."

"So go. You don't have to babysit me."

"Actually I do. Remember? Since you're still on my watch, you'll just have to come with. You can't sit around here forever; you've got a long life ahead of you, and sooner or later you're going to have to start living it. Hey, trust me, you'll have a great time. Would I lie to you?"

He scratched his mussed hair and then rubbed his face, wiping off the remnants of his tears. He looked out at the sunset one more time, and then he nodded. "OK, I'll go. For a little while." He glanced up at me and quirked an eyebrow. "But I'm not wearing a suit."

"Fine, whatever." I eyed his current wardrobe choice and added, "But I would suggest you put on some pants at some point, at least. Unless you intend to show up as the evening's entertainment."

~

As it turned out, I didn't wear a suit either. I enjoy my black tie soirees, don't get me wrong, but this was a different gig altogether, which was exactly why I'd chosen it for Mick to make his new and improved entrance into vamp society. I decided to go low-key with dark pinstriped trousers, a white Italian shirt, a black silk tie and suspender set, my (newly cleaned) Gravatis, and the pair of garnet cuff links Sarah had given me for my birthday.

I'd managed to drag Mick on exactly one shopping excursion since his arrival, and the results had been less than stellar. He would have nothing to do with anything that looked like it might have come from my wardrobe, instead returning from Brooks Brothers with a bag filled mostly with the black turtlenecks and snug trousers favored by guys on the covers of jazz albums. Not my style, but it suited him — it certainly went with his hair. But for this occasion, I was adamant that he look the part. We ended up with a compromise: a white Van Heusen shirt with French cuffs, charcoal trousers cut in the drainpipe style all the kids were into, black onyx cuff links, and a pair of black suede brothel creepers. It took half a tin of pomade, but he got his hair slicked back and beaten into submission; he refused to wear a tie or hat, and he wouldn't do up his collar, but it was still a vast improvement. I had to admit, he cleaned up well. He'd be plenty snappy enough for this scene.

We arrived at the house in the hills some time after 9pm, and the path from the road was already filled with cars. The front walk and courtyard were strung with lanterns and party lights, and faint music filtered out from the open windows and doors. As we approached the front step, Mick hung back and sighed.

"I don't think I'm up for this," he said. "This really isn't my crowd."

"What, like Coraline was? Oh, sorry — too soon? Relax. I didn't pick this party for nothing."

He scowled. "You're such a pompous ass."

"You're the one wearing suede shoes."

I rang the bell, cutting off his reply, and the door opened almost immediately.

"Josef!" I was instantly engulfed in a perfumed blonde embrace. "I thought you were in New York!"

"Janie. Look at you." I kissed her cheek, smiling. "I was, but I'm back in LA now. I thought I'd surprise you. I hope you don't mind?"

"Are you kidding? This is a wonderful surprise. I'm so glad you came. It's great to see you." She caught sight of Mick then, and one penciled eyebrow rose. "Who's your friend?"

I let Mick stare at her for a second. I knew he could smell that she was human, and Janie was no ordinary human. I'd known her since she was sixteen, and in the fifteen years that followed her charms had only increased. Vampires loved Janie, and she loved us right back. I'd never met a woman, human or vampire, who wielded more devastating charisma — except for Coraline. I waited for Mick's reaction. He had two options: he could cower behind me and mumble something at her feet, or he could rise to the occasion and turn on those baby blues.

He smiled and put out a hand. "Mick St. John."

 _That's my boy,_ I thought.

To her credit, Janie didn't show any recognition of the name, just shook his hand and returned his smile as she introduced herself. "Jane Silver." At his expression, she laughed. "I know — but have no fear, Mr. St. John. You're always safe with Janie."

"I'm sure we are," Mick said.She led us inside, where the party was already in full swing. Vampires and humans mixed and mingled over canapés, cocktails, and every blood type in existence. The front rooms were brightly lit, still decorated for the holidays; in here the music was loud and the talk was lively, the air filled with laughter and perfume, various types of smoke, tinkling ice and rustling cocktail dresses. In the corner beside the open patio, a band in matching jackets was banging away at full volume on 'Rocket 88' while a knot of couples danced on the deck.

Mick gaped at the scene before him — and then he looked at me, and his mouth curled into a grin.

I could see the vampires react to him as we entered. Apparently Mick's reputation had preceded him. It was inevitable that the story would get around — it's not the kind of thing that happens every day, and the fact that it had happened with Coraline made it all the more juicy. Everyone, mortal or immortal, wanted to see the man who had made Coraline lose her cool. That was just what I was counting on. They stared at him from behind their drinks and whispered behind their hands — I saw several women and a few men eye him in appraisal and then grin at each other. It was all I could do not to laugh. Fresh meat was such a commodity with this crowd.

Janie reappeared to take our coats. "Can I get you boys a drink?"

"You know what I like," I said. "Mick?"

"Oh, uh, I'll take whisky of if you have it. And, um...."

She winked at him. "Of course. Be right back."

Mick watched her walk away. "Man. She's really something."

"Tell me about it. Janie's an old friend — well, in human terms. I've known her since she was a debutante fresh out of school; she's been giving these parties ever since. She knows what she's doing, that's for sure."

"So you two are—"

"Oh no. I know better than to get involved long-term with a human." I forced my grin to stay sharp, and then I went on, "Janie's a smart girl — we've had our fun, sure, but she's got her head on straight. And she gives the best freshie parties in LA."

"What's freshie?"

I grinned.

At that moment, Janie returned with our drinks. "Here you go: one brandy and one whisky, both with A negative. Is that OK?"

"Perfect as always, my love," I said. I raised my glass to her and took a sip.

"You should try some of that straight," she said. "I just got a batch of some really great A negative, or so I'm told." She smiled at Mick and gestured at the room. "Make yourself at home; Josef knows his way around here. Enjoy the party."

"Thanks," he said tardily as she left. He watched her go, sipping his drink.

I took him around the first floor and made his introductions to everyone I knew, which was naturally quite a few. I knew that the more people he spoke to, the greater the chance that word would get back to that preposterous brother of Cora's. Mick, for his part, had suddenly become all smiles and grace — whether it was the music, the dancers, the drinks, or the people fawning over him, he transformed the minute he stepped down the split level and lit up like the paper lanterns strung across the windows. Gone was the angst-ridden ghost I'd had to live with for the past two weeks, the frantic creature from the night before that, and the swaggering punk from Coraline's party — in his place was someone with just enough of all three to shade his eyes but not enough of any to dull his smile. This was the vampire Mick would become.

Damn, I love being right all the time.

At first he avoided talking too much to the humans, but that was alright — one step at a time. As the night went on he stopped tensing at every introduction until he'd figured out the scent; eventually he made no perceptible distinction. When the band struck up their second set, a pony-tailed redhead grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him out onto the patio, where I watched him spin her through a flawless rendition of 'Shake, Rattle and Roll'. My work was done. I felt it safe to leave him in his element and pursue my own entertainment.

Janie had really outdone herself this year — the musicians, the cocktails, the A negative, everything was top notch. But I knew this was only a prelude; already the crowd had begun to thin as groups of two and four slipped from the main room into other, more secluded areas. As midnight drew closer, fortified by appetizers and alcohol, vampires and humans discreetly chose their partners and slipped away up the stairs and down the hallways. When they returned, the pale had become flushed and the flushed had become pale. No one might ever have noticed a difference, except that glasses were now filled with orange juice and tea as often as highballs and martinis, and the band switched from swing and rockabilly to jazz standards and soulful blues. The next time Mick crossed my path, fresh from a slow dance with a brunette in a polka-dot dress, I decided the time had come and pulled him aside.

"Swank little shindig, huh?"

"Oh man, I'm glad I let you talk me into this. This is my kind of party."

I laughed. "Mick, you have no idea. Come on. There's something I want to show you."

I caught Janie's eye from across the room; she came over to us, and when I whispered in her ear, we traded smiles and she slipped upstairs without a word. Mick watched her with curiosity, and when I followed her up the stairs, he came with me without being bidden. Together we left the noise and lights of the lower level and ascended to the cooler, darker second floor above.

Most of the doors we passed were closed; as we walked past each one, I watched Mick's face change. His nostrils twitched, mouth open and eyes huge, and he looked around the hallway as if he were being shouted at from several directions. We passed another door and he suddenly gasped, then stopped in his tracks and grabbed my arm.

"Josef, what is this? Josef—"

"Hey." I patted his cheek and winked. "Trust me."

He followed me to the last door, which stood open for us. Inside was one of Janie's guest rooms, furnished with large couches and lamps with colored shades; in one corner was a bar stocked with every supply, and in another a Miles Davis record played softly on a turntable. On the center sofa sat Janie next to another young woman, a buxom brunette in a blue cocktail dress.

"You remember Doris," Janie said. She knew very well I did; this wasn't the first time the two of them had sat on this couch together.

"Of course I do," I said. "How could I forget? You look lovely, my dear."

Doris stood up to let me kiss her cheek. "Josef, honey, it's been way too long. We've missed you around here. And this must be Mick?"

Mick watched us warily. The breezy smile and flirtatious charm from downstairs was gone, leaving only vague unease. He looked from one girl to the other and then at me; when he spoke, I could hear the strain in his voice.

"What is this?"

"This, Mick, is the part where you find out what being a vampire is really like."

He retreated a step. "No. No way—"

"Hey, hey, sh." Janie moved to him and took his arm. She touched his face and smiled. "Don't be afraid."

"Remember what I told you?" I said. "You have to learn sometime. I can't bottle feed you forever."

Doris giggled. "Josef, don't be mean. I think he's sweet." She took my arm and snuggled up to me, giving Mick a smile. "Don't worry, honey, there's nothing to it." She eyed me and added, "Well, not nothing."

I led her over to the sofa and she perched on my knee, taking a quick sip of her drink before settling in. She crossed her legs over mine and began pulling the heavy plastic bracelets off her left wrist. Janie shut the door behind us and then turned up the Miles Davis record a smidge before returning to Mick's side.

Mick watched Doris strip her arm bare with a mix of fascination and horror. Finally he managed to say, "Are — Aren't you afraid?"

Doris smiled and shook her head. "I know Josef. I know he would never hurt me. Unless I asked him to."

"Mm, naughty." I chuckled against the skin behind her ear. I could smell her now; whether or not Mick was up for the challenge had become irrelevant. I had played the chaste mentor long enough. Doris slipped the suspender off my left shoulder and started to loosen my tie; I took her wrist in my hand and pulled her to me, and she hitched a little breath and held on to my waist. I opened my eyes and looked up at Mick over the skin of her inner arm, and when my fangs dropped I smiled at him before I lunged.

I heard Mick gasp above Doris' squeak of pleasure. His heart pounded with hers, throbbing in my ears and against my mouth. I only took a few swallows before I broke free — Mick stared at us in glazed terror, one hand over his mouth. The other had balled against his thigh, clutching a fist full of slick fabric. I licked Doris' blood off my lips and grinned.

"See? Piece of cake. Your turn."

Janie touched his chest, and he jumped as if she were a red-hot poker. She untied the hostess corsage on her wrist and left it on the table next to Doris' bracelets. Mick saw the faint scars along her inner arm and his eyes, if possible, grew even larger. She slid her arms around his waist and leaned into him; he closed his eyes and stood as if turned to stone.

"I don't want to hurt you," he whispered.

She smiled. "Yes you do. But you won't. I could see that the minute I first looked at you."

His eyes opened, and they had gone pale and desperate. "What if I can't stop?"

"Josef is right here. He won't let anything happen. Don't worry."

She moved her hands up his chest, and a muscle in his jaw twitched. He grabbed her wrist and brought it close, just below his mouth, his sharp nose sniffing and white eyes staring at the veins in her skin.

"It's alright, Mick," Janie said. "Go ahead. I want you to. Do it now."

That was more than he could take — he growled and jerked her against him, latching onto her wrist while his other arm held her so tightly it had to hurt. She bit her lip against a noise of pleasure. Mick closed his eyes and drank greedily; Janie clutched his shirt and opened her eyes to smile at me. I knew then that Mick was in good hands, leaving me free to turn my full attention back to Doris.

"Now. Where were we?"

Doris squirmed closer on my lap, pulling at my loosened tie. "He's a cutie," she said against my mouth. "You're gonna have fun with him."

"Enough about him," I said. Dimly I heard a giggle from Janie and a _whump_ as two bodies soft-landed on the couch beside us, then the rustling of cocktail dress crinoline and a strangled moan from Mick. And then Doris got my collar undone and slid a hand inside my shirt while her other arm moved back to my mouth, and I stopped listening to anything else but her.

~

A little while later, Janie poured two glasses of juice for herself and Doris and two sangria chasers for myself and Mick. The four of us sat on the sofa for a while and listened to Miles Davis and the muted noise of the party filtering up from below.

"I should get back," Janie said. "It's almost midnight. I need to start pouring the champagne."

"I'll help you," said Doris. "I need a few soda crackers while I'm at it."

"Sorry about that," I grinned. "It's been a while."

She shared my grin. "That wasn't a complaint." She kissed me to prove her point and started putting her bracelets back on. "So, does this mean you'll be in LA for a while?"

I glanced at Mick. "I think so."

"Well that's a happy New Year gift," Janie said sweetly. She had Doris tie the ribbon on her corsage for her, and then she patted Mick on the cheek with her other hand and grinned. "You should come back for the Valentine's party."

Mick gazed at her over his untouched glass, and then he gave her a slow, toothy smile. "Yeah. I think I'll do that."

"Oh, he is adorable, Josef," Janie said. "I'm glad you snagged him. This is going to be a fun year."

She and Doris disposed of the drinks while Mick did up his shirt; meanwhile, I re-knotted my tie and straightened my wayward suspenders.

"Look at you," I said cheerfully. "Not a drop on you. You're a pro already."

A lock of his hair had escaped its waxy bonds; he slicked it back into place and shook his head.

"That... I had no idea."

"That? That was just a test drive."

"Hey, we heard that," Doris laughed.

"You know that's not what I meant, dear ladies. I knew Janie would give a shout if Mick couldn't handle it. But hey, look at that, he passed with flying colors. Congrats, Mick, you just earned your learner's permit."

Mick was staring at me, both eyebrows up, and I knew he hadn't heard anything beyond "test drive". I slapped him on the back.

"Come on, let's go downstairs. Champagne is perfect after this."

We finished making ourselves presentable and helped the ladies tidy up the room for its next occupants, and then we all headed downstairs to rejoin the party. The girls went on ahead to make a beeline for the bar, leaving Mick and me to follow. I was brushing a wrinkle from my shirt when I felt Mick go stiff beside me. He froze in his tracks, halfway down the stairs, and his hand clutched the banister so tightly that the wood cracked under his grip.

On the other side of the living room, lounging against the jamb of the patio door and smoking a cigarette in an ivory holder, was Coraline. A tall human leaned over her, one hand in her dark hair and another sliding around the waist of her purple silk dress.

I grabbed for Mick. "Wait—"

Too late. He vaulted over the banister and shot through the crowd faster than the humans could see. He had the terrified human against the wall before the poor guy could draw breath to gasp; Mick bared his teeth and braced his arm across the human's throat, preparing to snap his neck like a Popsicle stick.

I was at his side in an instant, hauling him off his hapless victim and dragging him outside into the cold air. "Mick! Hey! Knock it off. Not here, man. Not here."

Coraline put a hand on Mick's arm. "Sweetheart, I—"

"Put a sock in it, Cora." I jerked Mick away from her. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I heard you were here, and I just wanted to see if..."

"Oh for God's sake." I turned my back to her and shook Mick to snap him out of it. "She's baiting you, Mick. Don't let her get to you. You were doing just fine." To the human I said, "I suggest you hit the bricks, Fabian, before my friend here rips out your spine and ties it around your neck."

The human took one look at Mick and wisely decided no thrill was worth this; he fled back into the crowd. People had begun to gather around the patio doors, staring and murmuring; I glared at Coraline without bothering to lower my volume or disguise my annoyance.

"Just what do you think you're doing? Huh? I just spent two weeks getting this guy back to something resembling sanity, and you pull this? Do you want him dead? Is that what you want?"

"He's my husband," she snapped. "I have a right to see him."

Mick tried to go to her, but I shoved him back. "Like hell you do. You gave up that right the night you turned him."

"Mick," she crooned to him. She reached past me and put a hand on his chest. "I've missed you. Haven't you missed me? Come home with me, baby."

He fell into her like water down a drain. She put her hands on his face and kissed him; he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her hips against his, closing his fingers in purple silk. I made a noise of disgust.

"Fine. To hell with both of you."

I smoothed down my mussed shirt and turned to leave. Before I could take a step, Mick pulled free from Coraline and pushed her away, wiping his mouth.

"Josef, wait."

"Mick," Coraline said.

"No." He pointed at her, his face hard and angry. "No. I can't go back to you, Coraline. Not now. Not yet. I'm not ready. Just leave me alone."

"But I love you," she cried. Her voice made him reel, but he didn't move.

"I've had enough of you for one lifetime. Come back during the next one."

She glared at me. "You did this. You did this to him."

"Sorry honey, you can pin this one right on yourself. I'm just cleaning up your mess like I said I would." I glanced at the crowd and leaned in to whisper in her ear. "You're not doing yourself any favors here, Cora. Do you want this story to get around? I don't think your exalted brother would be too keen on it." I patted her arm in what I hoped was a gesture of comfort. "You have to give him some time. It won't work this way. Now I suggest you go before Janie calls in the reinforcements."

She pouted and huffed, and she took one more pained look at Mick and one more petulant look at me, and then she jerked her wrap around her shoulders and left through the garden without looking back. Mick watched her go, and his fingertips touched his mouth where she had kissed him.

"You OK?" I said.

He didn't answer right away, but then he looked at me and made a fair attempt at a smile.

"Yeah. I will be."

I turned to face the assembled spectators. "What is this, a floor show? You never saw a jealous ex before? Get outta here, go get your champagne."

I followed Mick back inside the living room, and the stares and whispers of those who had witnessed the unsightly squabble gradually mixed back with the chatter and laughter of a New Year's Eve party at the edge of midnight. I saw some of the women looking Mick over again, but not with fear — never underestimate the power of a bad breakup to increase a man's sex appeal.

The room was packed to bursting now; everyone had stumbled back in for the countdown. The band was warming up again, and Janie moved through the crowd passing out flutes of champagne with her uninjured hand. She caught my eye and raised an inquisitive eyebrow; we exchanged looks, and she smiled and nodded before moving on. I grabbed two flutes from the nearest tray and passed one to Mick, who was staring silently out the window. He looked down at the glass in his hand and sniffed it.

"I haven't had champagne since before the war."

"You probably didn't have it then," I said. "Americans have no idea what to call things."

"Josef," Mick began, then paused. "I want to thank you for helping me out. I know you didn't want to. It means a lot that you'd do that, when I know you never wanted to be anyone's sire."

I glanced at the cufflink on my wrist, and then I looked at Mick and put on my best smile. "Yeah, well, we don't always get what we want. The trick is to want what we get."

"Hey, it's time!" someone yelled. Around us the crowd began to count down the last seconds of 1955. _Ten, nine, eight, seven..._

"A toast," I said. "To your new life."

His expression faltered, but then he raised his glass to mine. "To a new start."

_...four, three, two, one — Happy New Year!_

The band struck up 'Auld Lang Syne' as the party-goers cheered and tossed confetti and kissed every partner in their vicinity. Mick looked up into the colored lights and falling confetti. A passing girl grabbed him by the collar and kissed him; when she was gone, he drank his champagne and laughed.

"Welcome to 1956," I said above the racket. "It's going to be a good year."


	5. Alone Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Here's where things start to get really self-indulgent. From here each chapter gets more wordy as I threw in whatever came to mind that day. Good times.)

Thanks to me, Mick had now had a taste of what life as a vampire was really like; and thanks to Coraline, he couldn't enjoy it. Seeing her at Janie's party, and the violent reaction he had been unable to stop, had set him back a notch, which was just annoying enough for me to lose what few shreds of pity I had left for Cora. That little trick she pulled had seriously pissed me off — it was beneath our style. It lacked class. Vamps have no need for cheap moves like that. We have plenty of time to wait for what we want to come to us.

Mick seemed fine for the rest of that night, but when he got up the next evening, I thought sure I was going to have another tantrum on my hands. Luckily Mick had apparently outgrown that phase. He was a vampire now — an overly dramatic vampire who clung to his humanity, but a vampire nonetheless. No more incoherent ranting and subsequent ass-kicking; no more crawling around in the dark feeding from dubious sources; no more blind drooling rage and inept attempts to end himself. All that was over. Mick wasn't depressed anymore — now he was angry. I couldn't blame him, really, but it made living with him over the next few days pretty much unbearable, and the remnants of patience I had left for this little experiment came screeching to a halt.

He sulked. He brooded. He pouted. He fumed. He paced the house all night in his ratty dungarees and A-shirts, slamming doors and kicking furniture. He swore and he scowled and he sat in my favorite chair and left his stupid records all over the hi-fi. He crushed glasses in his fist when he picked them up and got blood on my white dining room carpet. That was the last straw.

"Seriously?" I told him. "Are you gonna give this a rest any time soon? You're driving me insane here."

"Leave me alone," Mick snapped. "I'm not in the mood for you right now."

That was it. I rarely lose my cool; retaining my smooth exterior at all times is a point of pride for me. But Mick has always had an uncanny talent for finding the cracks. I plunked my glass down on the table and turned on him.

"Well that's just too goddamn bad, isn't it? I really couldn't give a shit about your mood. I've had just about all of your moods that I can take. You and your moods have been nothing but a giant pain in my ass since day one, and I am sick of it. This is my house, not yours, and you can just take your little existential hell somewhere else."

Mick met my outburst head on. It was like he'd been waiting for something to give. "Well I am just so fucking sorry, Josef. Excuse me for not constantly kissing your ass like everybody else does. In case you haven't noticed, my life has pretty much turned to shit since I met you. First my wife killed me, then she drove me crazy, then she stuck me with you, then I almost ripped a guy in half because she won't stop messing with my head. This is not exactly the best time for me right now, OK?"

"Oh please. This isn't about me or Coraline. This is about you. You're not mad because Cora turned you into a vamp — you're mad because you like being one."

He pointed at me. "That is not true."

"Come on! You're really gonna stand there and tell me you're worse off now than when you were human? I remember what you were like with Coraline. And I remember what you were like at Janie's. Those humans adored you, and you got off on it. You wanted to eat Janie alive, and both of you loved it."

"No—"

"Oh, for God's sake, Mick, would you just cut the self-righteous bullshit? You need to go ahead and drop these human scruples you've got such a death grip on. You are not a human. You are a vampire. Humans are your food." I ignored his stricken expression. "They are our food. You get that? Does that mean we go around killing them every night? No. But that doesn't mean the instinct's not there. We will always be the predators, and they will always be the prey. The sooner you deal with that, the better. Get over it and learn to enjoy yourself, or you might as well go back to Plan A right now and take a nice long walk in the sunlight."

Mick dropped into the nearest chair. "Oh, God," he said softly. "What did I do to deserve this?"

"You fell in love," I said. "That'll teach you."

He glared at me. "So now I'm supposed to be like you? Not care about anyone but myself? Just use humans up and toss them out when I'm done? That's how I'm supposed to spend eternity?"

"Well you sure as hell can't spend it like this." I looked him in the eye, hardened my voice. "You can't take back what you did with Coraline. What's done is done. Accidents happen. Humans die. They die in car crashes and bank robberies and from horrible nasty smelly diseases. At least with us, they die happy." My throat tightened, but I kept going. "I don't do advice, but if I did, this would be it: detach yourself now. Put a line between you and them, and never cross it. Enjoy humans all you want, make money off them, party with them, but never get too close. Ever. After all, look where it got you."

He looked at me in disgust. "At least I loved someone. At least I felt something. I'm not like you."

The last cord holding my temper back snapped. My face grew hot and I felt my eyes pale; I grabbed Mick by two handfuls of his shirt and hauled him out of the chair, jerking him up to face me until the thin cotton ripped under my fingers, and it was all I could do not to bash his sanctimonious face into the glass coffee table.

"You're damn right you're not like me," I snapped. "After what I did for you, stuck my neck out for you, changed my life for you, and all you can do is bitch and whine like the pathetic weakling you are." His eyes paled, and he snarled, but he wasn't strong enough yet to break my grip. "Well let me tell you something," I growled around my fangs. "My commission is over. I did what I said I'd do. I'm not your sire, I'm not your father, I'm not your brother or your babysitter. You can go to hell for all I care. You're on your own."

Mick's eyes faded instantly. He started to speak, but I wouldn't let him. "Did you seriously think we'd keep up this little Boy Scout campfire kum-ba-ya thing forever? I was doing just fine before you came along. I don't need a sidekick. You picked the wrong vampire to be bosom buddies with."

"I didn't pick you." Mick said. "You picked me."

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. My eyes cooled, and my fangs retracted. I glared at him, and then I pushed him away and walked over to the bar. I poured myself a glass of brandy to compose myself.

"Well now it's your turn," I said. I drained the glass and grimaced. "I don't care what you do."

Mick stared at me for a long time, and then he nodded and walked out of the house, slamming the front door behind him.

After Mick left, I took a long shower to wash all that deep discussion off me. Mick was right; he had no need of me now. My good deed for this century had been done. No more orphaned beatnik intruding on my solo life, cramping my style and drinking up all my A negative. I could look back on the events of the year 1955 as an interesting anomaly, a blip on an otherwise clean radar, a curious bout of weakness that was bound to happen once every few hundred years.

By the time I got out of the shower, the cold water had perked up my mood. I stood naked in front of the terrace doors and let the cold January wind dry me off, calm, cool, and collected. I'd been around a long time — sometimes I lived alone, sometimes I didn't. But I'd been on a roll before all of this nonsense, and I would go back to it just as quickly, and in a few years nobody would remember any of this had ever happened. I'd been alive too long to expect anything else.

When I turned to go back inside, I saw Mick's glass sitting on an empty record sleeve. I stared at it for a minute, and then I picked it up and hurled it against the wall.

A little before dawn, I sat in my robe on my favorite deck chair and watched the ocean lose its tug of war with the morning tide. No one was out at this hour; it was too cold for the yachts and too early for the fishermen. The sea was as dark and empty as it would have been centuries ago, before streetlights and beacons and buoys marred the view; looking out at the black horizon, I could just as well have been the only soul left on earth.

I heard the front door open, but I didn't turn around. I stayed where I sat, looking out at the water, until I heard Mick's footsteps on the terrace behind me. He drew up the other chair and sat down without a word. His hair was whipped by the wind; his clothes were wrinkled, his face drawn and white. He looked out at the horizon in front of us, and when he spoke, his voice was quiet.

"I can't go back to Coraline. I don't want to be on my own. My old life is gone, and I don't have a new one yet. I'm all alone now. Except for you. "

I finished the rest of my drink, and then I picked up the bottle and refilled my glass. I passed the bottle to Mick; when he saw my face, he took it and gave me a little smile. I raised my glass to him and then turned back to look at the water.

"We'll be alone together," I said.

~

Don't ever tell him I said this, but once he got his head on straight, it was kind of nice having Mick around the place. He fit all my criteria for a good housemate: he never touched my stuff, he never asked me personal questions, he drank his own liquor, and he did his own laundry. Leftover army discipline, I guess. We were on equal terms now, more or less, and he was free to come and go as he pleased, but for those first few nights he stuck with me; he had yet to learn where to procure refreshment on his own. I would take us into town right after nightfall, and we would leave the car with a valet and go for long walks past the clubs and bars and theaters, seeing and being seen for a while before deciding on our evening's entertainment. We were on our way back to the car after one of these late-night outings, strolling through the crowds in front of the Warner Cinerama, when Mick suddenly froze where he stood. He closed his eyes and inhaled, and then again.

"What?" I said, alarmed. "What is it?"

Mick sniffed again. "Popcorn," he breathed. "Oh, man, I miss popcorn."

"You have got to be kidding me."

He opened one eye. "You never ate popcorn, did you?"

"Not a big menu item in the 1600s, no."

"Then you're lucky. You don't know what you're missing." He sniffed again, and then his eyes opened and he grabbed me by the arm. "Let's go watch a movie. I haven't seen a movie in years."

"What, are you serious?"

"Yeah! Come on, it'll be fun."

"Define 'fun'."

"Come on, Josef, we always do what you want to do. You said you never go to the movies anymore, right? Let me show you something cool for a change."

"Oh, OK! And then maybe after, I can wear your class ring and we can go to the sock hop!"

He pushed me away, scowling. "Fine. I'll go by myself. I'll see you back at the house."

I watched him walk off toward the box office, and then I shrugged. When I caught up with him under the flashing lights, I plucked a program off the stand and said, "So, any chance of a Garbo flick playing?"

Mick quirked an eyebrow at me. To the attendant he said, "Two, please."

I studied the lobby card with curiosity. "Who's James Dean?"

Mick's other eyebrow rose.

A few hours later, we walked up the front steps of my house, discussing our cinematic experience. As I dug for my keys, Mick shook the bag of popcorn in his hands, which he had purchased not for eating but for smelling. He sniffed at it one more time, somewhat longingly, and said, "So you didn't like it at all?"

"The girl was cute, I guess, but ugh, all that whining. After ten minutes of that I would have just snapped all their necks. Problem solved." I opened the door, shaking my head. "With the crying and the angst and the you're tearing me aparrrrt? Yeah, no."

"Well, I loved it."

"Of course you did. It's your biography."

We hung our coats in the closet and I flipped on the coffee pot, which had already been stocked with our midnight snack. Mick left the popcorn bag on the bar and got us some warmed glasses.

"Fine," he said. "Next time we'll see a spaceman flick."

"Hollywood doesn't know how to make movies anymore," I said. "It's all special effects now. Sad. I miss the old days: Gable, Crawford, Clara Bow. Those were movies. All these robots and Martians and giant ants are just cheating." I stopped in mid-pour, smiling wistfully. "Ah. Clara Bow. Now there's a girl who knew how to throw a party. Good times."

Mick gaped at me. "Wait, are you saying you actually knew— "

Before I could answer, someone knocked at the front door. A second later, Mick's nostrils twitched and his eyebrows went up. I started to ask him who it was, but then I heard the sound of low female laughter on the steps, and I didn't have to. Still smiling, I left Mick at the bar and opened the door to let them in.

"Ladies. Isn't this a pleasant surprise?"

Janie kissed me quickly as she entered, followed by Doris, who kissed me a bit more slowly.

"I called, but nobody answered," Janie said. "I thought we'd just stop by and wait for you."

"You're just in time," I said. As I took their coats I added, "So, to what do we owe the pleasure?"

"Well, I hadn't seen you since New Year's, so I thought I'd drop by and see how you were doing."

I grinned. "And by me, you mean Mick."

"The two of you were quite the talk at the party, you know."

"We were?" Mick said.

"Honey, it's not every day I have a vampire try to kill someone in my house in front of a hundred people," she said. "Especially not a vampire whose origins are so, shall we say, worthy of discussion."

Mick looked embarrassed. "Look, Janie, I'm really sorry about that, I didn't— "

"I know, I know. Don't worry about it. I didn't come here for an apology. I came to see if you were doing alright. I thought you might benefit from some congenial company."

"Besides Josef, of course," Doris said, giggling.

"And also," Janie added, "I came to bring you this." She opened the door long enough to retrieve something she'd left on the front step. When she pulled it inside, Mick's eyes went wide. His whole demeanor changed; his face lit up like a little kid on Christmas morning.

Janie handed him the guitar case and smiled. "Someone left it at my place ages ago — I have no idea who. It's been in a closet collecting dust, so I figured maybe it would get more use with you."

Mick took the case from her like it was a holy relic. "I — are you sure?"

Janie glanced at me. "A little birdie told me you were a musician, you know, before. I thought this might help you feel a little more settled."

He beamed one of his goofy grins at her, and then he took the case into the living room and opened it to pull out a wooden guitar. Whatever brand it was, it must have been a good one, because when he held it up his eyes got even bigger and a sound approaching religious ecstasy came from his throat.

"It needs tuning," Janie called after him. "I left that part for you." She turned back to me. "I hope you don't mind, Josef. I really thought it might help."

"Coming from you? I'm sure it will." She and Doris had followed me to the bar, where I set about pouring them both a drink. "I should have known you'd come up with something; you're good with that stuff. I myself am lacking in that whole empathy, encouragement area."

"Nonsense," Janie said. "He looks more with-it now than he did at the party. Who's been with him all the time since then?"

I shrugged. "He just needed to clear his head after Cora's little holiday surprise. You know how these young ones are. Everything's a huge theatrical production. After a couple days he was perfectly oh my dear Lord in heaven what is that noise?"

"I have to tune it!" called Mick from the living room.

"Well do it on the terrace," I shouted back. "Sounds like a German Dada show."

Mick took the guitar outside and sat in one of the deck chairs while I handed the girls their drinks and then fixed one up for myself. While I was putting the O-pos back into the warmer, Doris spotted the popcorn on the bar and said, "Where did this come from?"

"We were at the Cinerama," I said. "Mick was feeling nostalgic. Please, don't let it go to waste."

She and Janie munched on the popcorn together while they sipped their drinks. The horrible ear-drum-bending racket from the terrace eventually became recognizable as musical notes, which then became scales, which then became chords.

"I guess he likes it," Janie said. "I'm glad. I'd been planning on visiting you two anyway, but when I found that in the closet I thought it might be just the thing."

"Sounds like someone has a crush."

She rolled her eyes at me over a handful of popcorn. "You know me better than that." Sipping her drink, she glanced at the open terrace doors and frowned. "But it's not fair what Coraline did to him, what she's still doing to him. I don't like it."

"I hope you haven't said that in public."

"Of course not. Do I look like a fool? I might like to hang out with vampires, but I don't have a death wish." She shook her head. "This is just a different kind of situation than I'm used to. I wanted to help out if I could."

"Our little Janie, Florence Nightingale for vampires. I guess having an orphan on the loose brought out your maternal instincts."

She eyed me. "I'm not the one who let him move in with me." She patted my hand, then threaded our fingers together. "You're a good guy, Josef. I don't care what anyone says."

"Yeah, well, just don't let it get around, OK?"

"I'm glad he has you, but if he's going to adjust, he's going to need someone like me, too. After all, you can't teach him everything." She scooped up some popcorn and winked. "Well, unless you really wanted to."

Whatever she saw on my face, it made her burst out laughing.

Doris slipped her arm around my waist. "Let's go into the living room," she said. "I'll put a record on."

"There's Billie Holiday on the table," I said. "Hey, Mick, close the door so the girls don't get cold."

"We're alright," Doris said. "We're used to it."

"Nonsense," I said smoothly. I was on my game now. "I won't have my guests anything less than comfortable."

"Always the gentleman," Doris cooed, with that smile that reminded me I was anything but. I flashed my fangs just long enough to leer at her while she bent over the hi-fi, and winked at her when she laughed.

Janie and I settled ourselves on the sofa while Mick came inside and closed the doors behind him. "This is a really nice piece of work," he said. "I feel sorry for whoever lost it."

"Why don't you play us something?" said Janie. "Billie Holiday can wait."

Doris took the needle back off the record. "Hey, that's a swell idea! Play something for us, Mick."

"Oh, no, I don't think so. It's been a long time. I'm really out of practice. I don't think you guys would like it."

"I agree," I said.

Janie elbowed me. "Josef, don't be mean."

"Have you heard some of the stuff he listens to?"

Doris gasped. "Do you play rock and roll?"

I sighed.

"Come on, Mick," Janie said. "If there's one thing I know as well as I know vampires, it's musicians. There must be all kinds of songs pent up behind those curls, just waiting to come out." She giggled at his chagrin and patted the empty spot next to her. "Don't be shy. I'm sure we'll like it."

Doris took a seat on my other side, leaving her drink on the table to curl up close to me. Mick sat down beside Janie and balanced the guitar on his knee. Doris hummed in contentment and snuggled closer to me, and my eyebrows rose. Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all. On my other side, Janie leaned back into the sofa and sipped her drink with a hand on my knee. She looked over at me and smiled, and despite myself, I smiled back.

Mick plucked and plonked and strummed the guitar for a minute or two, starting and stopping different tunes, and it was almost like he had forgotten we were there. He sat apart from us, poised on the edge of the sofa, and started playing a strong, solid rhythm. His eyes closed. All his presence went into the strings beneath his fingers and, eventually, the words that came from his mouth.

_Everybody knows where you go when the sun goes down_  
_I think you only live to see the lights of town_  
_I wasted my time when I would try, try, try_  
_When the lights have lost their glow, you'll cry, cry, cry_

"Well that's chipper," I muttered to Doris. But she wasn't looking at me; she was looking at Mick, and the corners of her eyes glistened with tears.

_Soon your sugar daddies will all be gone_  
_You'll wake up some cold day and find you're alone_  
_You'll call to me, but I'm gonna tell you bye, bye, bye_  
_When I turn around and walk away, you'll cry, cry, cry_  
_You're gonna cry, cry, cry, and you'll cry alone,_  
_When everyone's forgotten you and you're left on your own_  
_You're gonna cry, cry, cry_

_When your fickle love gets old, no one will care for you_  
_You'll want to come back to me for a little love that's true_  
_I'll tell you no and then you'll ask me why, why, why_  
_When I remind you of all of this, you'll cry, cry, cry_  
_You're gonna cry, cry, cry, and you'll want me then,_  
_It'll hurt you when you think of how cruel you've been_  
_You're gonna cry, cry, cry_

The last note faded, and Mick laid the guitar across his lap. He leaned over, his hair covering his eyes, and said nothing. Doris, both her arms tight around me now, put her head on my shoulder and sighed. I could feel her heartbeat against my chest. Her mood was catching – before I could stop myself, I smoothed back her hair from her face and kissed her on the forehead.

Janie put a soothing hand on Mick's shoulder and smiled. "There now. How was that?"

Mick sat up straight and turned around, pushing his curls out of his eyes. He saw the three of us watching him, and then he smiled.


	6. Compulsion (1)

Valentine's Day can be tough for you humans. For a newly-turned vampire who was betrayed by his wife on their wedding night and then driven insane by her obsessive manipulations until he finally managed to leave her in a violent confrontation that almost resulted in his own death, it's pretty much torture. So when I received an invitation from a Miss Jane M. Silver to attend a Valentine's Day party to begin promptly at 10pm, February 14, 1956, I wasn't sure if Mick would be up to it. Having attended this party in years past, I was sure as hell going — but despite his recent improvements, I knew what Mick was still going through, and I could understand if he didn't share my festive mood. So I had to give him credit when he saw the invitation and immediately started figuring out which clothes he wanted to wear. Maybe I was starting to rub off on him after all. Hope springs eternal.

In honor of the occasion I bought myself a new pale pink Armani shirt with white French cuffs and collar. (I told you I was a romantic. ) I matched them with some smartly cuffed charcoal trousers, black and white wingtips, and the black dress suspenders that went so well with my onyx cufflinks. No tie for this occasion; I wanted as few hindrances as possible. Mick wore the same white Van Heusen shirt that he'd worn for New Year's, and those same horrid black suede brothel creepers, but he bought himself a new pair of drainpipes in slick gray sharkskin, the latest fashion; a set of black and white suspenders with shiny black buttons; and a pair of slate opal cufflinks that matched his eyes. Now I knew I was starting to rub off on him. We grinned at each other in the mirror — we cut quite the figure, if I do say so myself. And I always do.

As I drove us through the hills to Janie's place, Mick fidgeted with his cufflinks and tapped his feet like a high school kid on his way to prom.

"Relax," I told him. "Coraline's not coming. She knows drawing attention to herself like that again would be an incredibly bad idea. Trust me. You don't have to think about her tonight."

"I know," Mick said, but he sounded like he was trying to convince himself rather than me. He looked out his window — I had the Corvette's top up to protect our pomade — and nodded at his reflection in the dark glass. "I know." He went quiet after that, at least for a minute or two. And then:

"Josef, can I ask you something?"

I made a noncommittal noise, so as not to imply that I knew exactly what he was about to say.

"I was just wondering, um, if it was possible for a vampire and a human to — I mean, can a human and a vamp—"

"Have sex? Of course." I shifted gears and grinned. "What, you think I haven't been waiting for you to ask me that?"

"But how? Well, I don't mean how, I mean how do you do it without, you know—" He put his hands up into monster-mash claws and chomped his teeth.

I laughed. "You don't. I mean, I suppose there's a vamp out there somewhere who can have sex without biting, but I've never met them. You just make sure you pick the right humans." I eyed him. "You'd be surprised how many of them like it."

"But isn't that dangerous? How do you know when to stop?"

"Come on, Mick, how did you learn the first time? You practice. You screw up a couple times, you make a mess, you get over it. It's really not a big deal. Don't squeeze too tight, don't push too hard, don't drink too much, et voilà."

I had to laugh again. In three hundred and fifty years, this was the first time I'd actually had to explain the vampire facts of life to someone. The fact that it was ladies-man Mick made it all the more hilarious. I couldn't help poking him a little.

"Don't worry about it, slugger. Janie will show you what to do."

"I wasn't talking about Janie," Mick snapped. "I was being hypothetical."

I smiled and leaned over to switch on the radio. Frank Sinatra was halfway through the first verse of 'Strangers in the Night'; I turned the volume up a notch and shifted gear again to get us up the hill, still grinning.

"Of course you were."

~

Janie's Valentine's Day party was a smaller affair than her big New Year's bash, but no less impressive. The weather was warm enough for the band to be outside this time; the deck was enclosed by privacy screens and lit with covered tiki torches and strings of lanterns, making a warm niche for dancing bodies. Different band this time, too — instead of the rockabilly group in matching jackets she had brought in a three-man ensemble, all in cool Beat black, to set the mood with the appropriate sounds. In the living room the sofas and love seats had been pushed into an intimate maze, leaving the space by the stairs free for a table spread with chocolate and other sweets, warm red wine, cold champagne, and all blood types both heated and chilled. Whatever the occasion, Janie never let her guests go hungry.

She met us at the door like a good hostess, kissing us each on the cheek and remarking appreciatively on our attire, and then she left us to our own devices while she saw to the rest of her arriving guests. After we said our hellos around the room, I fixed myself some warm wine and O positive while Mick snagged a glass of champagne — saving his appetite for later, apparently.

The first half of the night was as lively as the New Year's party had been; humans and vampires chatted and flirted among themselves and with each other, making new introductions and rekindling old connections. The room was filled with a pleasant buzz of conversation, music, smoke, and laughter. I lost track of Mick as I made my rounds. The dance floor outside was packed; the band had chosen a very effective set list, and I myself gave several ladies a turn around the tiles. It was after one of these dances, as I came inside for another drink, that I met up with the fashionably late Doris. She looked delectable in a pink party dress and pearl necklace set, with her dark hair done up in a chic white band.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Josef," she said as she kissed my cheek.

"And how apropos you look," I said. I took her hand and twirled her around to get the full view. "Like a bottle of Charbaut all wrapped up for your Valentine."

"Ooh, I like that," she nodded. "Tasteful, flattering, yet still suggestive. Nicely done." She ran a finger underneath my left suspender. "I just hope my Valentine likes the vintage."

I grabbed her waist to pull her closer, but she drew back. "But where are my manners? There's someone I want you to meet. Josef, this is Trudy."

She brought forward the young woman at her side, a gorgeous creature in a yellow party dress that made her dark skin shimmer like brown velvet. Someone else might have been surprised to see her here, but not me — for vampires, and the humans who fraternize with us, such mortal prejudices are obsolete. Trudy held a graceful hand out to me and smiled.

"Hello, Josef," she said. She wore a pale green ribbon in her hair, and a matching choker with a stone pendant that rested above the pulse in the hollow of her throat. I watched it quicken when I took her hand.

"I've been telling Trudy all about you," Doris said. "She's been so keen to meet you in person."

I raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

Trudy smiled. "Any friend of Doris is a friend of mine. When she told me you'd be here tonight, I knew I just had and come meet you for myself."

Doris slipped one arm through mine and the other through Trudy's. "I thought tonight would be the perfect opportunity for the three of us to get to know each other better. Don't you think so, Josef?"

I looked from one woman to the other, and then I shook my head and grinned.

"I love this holiday."

As the night wore on, the party grew smaller and quieter. Little by little the guests began to call it a night, and most of those who had arrived alone did not leave the same way. The band packed up around 1am, and the patio lights were put out so the sliding glass doors could be closed. Eventually only a few of Janie's nearest and dearest remained, including myself, Mick, Doris, and Trudy. The ladies had removed their shoes, the gentlemen their ties and jackets; we sat in a sprawl of open collars and wrinkled skirts, enjoying the last of the champagne. The tables and counter tops were strewn with empty glasses, half-melted candles, and crinkled candy wrappers. A Stan Getz record spun lazily on the hi-fi. One couple said their good-nights and quietly slipped out the front door; another had fallen asleep curled up together on a loveseat. Mick glanced at them, and then he glanced through the glass doors to the sky outside.

"What time is it?"

Janie checked her watch. "Almost five."

I sighed. "Look, my love, what envious streaks do lace the severing clouds in yonder east." I finished my drink and reached over to pat Mick's knee. "If we don't leave now, we won't make it back before sunrise."

"Nonsense, you're spending the day here." Janie said. "And don't even pretend like that wasn't your cunning plan all along."

I glanced from Doris on my left to Trudy on my right. "The thought had occurred to me."

Mick's ears pricked up at the suggestion, but he hesitated. "But... where would we sleep?"

Janie arched an eyebrow. "I thought that was fairly obvious, honey."

"No, I mean where—"

"One day outside a freezer won't kill you, Mick," I said. "You know that."

"I don't know how you can sleep in those small spaces," Trudy said with a little shudder. "I'd get claustrophobia if I had to sleep in a freezer."

"You get used to it," I shrugged. "The cold is worth it. We don't sleep well without it; after a while, sleeping in the open makes you feel kind of exposed. Vampire paranoia, I guess."

"Not to worry," Janie said to Mick. She took his empty glass from him and set it on the table. "Didn't I tell you you're safe with me?" She stood up, retrieved her shoes with one hand, and held the other out to him. "Shall we?"

He took her hand and a smile spread across his face. "We shall." On their way up the stairs, he turned to grin back at the three of us curled up on the sofa. "You kids behave now."

"Good night, you two," Doris called after them. The sleeping couple on the loveseat shifted, snuggling closer to each other. Trudy shushed Doris, and they giggled over their champagne.

When Mick and Janie were gone, I leaned back and spread my arms across the back of the couch. "Well, ladies, it appears I'm trapped here until sunset."

Doris and Trudy eyed each other.

"We have a vampire at our mercy, Tru," Doris said. "What do you think we should do with him?"

Trudy stood up and stretched. She nudged her shoes under the sofa, slipped off her choker, and left it on the table as she walked barefoot toward the stairs.

"Are you two coming or what?"

Doris was already off the sofa, laughing as she tugged at her dress zipper. I scooped up the champagne bottle and followed behind them, shaking my head.

"I love this holiday."

~

Quite a long time later, I lay on my back on cold silk sheets and listened to the two slow heartbeats beside me. Trudy's head rested on my left shoulder; her arm curled across my belly, where my skin was smeared with dried blood from the wounds on her wrist. Another set gleamed on her upturned neck. Snuggled up against Trudy's back, Doris snored quite adorably, her arm thrown over Trudy's shoulder and a fresh set of marks drying pink and swollen beside her left breast. They were both sound asleep, sated in several ways, and I lay there with my arm behind my head and enjoyed the feel of them mixing with the champagne in my veins. It was worth being warm for this.

The room next door was Janie's, and though the walls were made of thick 50s cinder block, I could still hear everything going on inside. Now that I was no longer focused on my own exertions, I couldn't help indulging my curiosity. Mick and Janie were clearly enjoying each other's company, but I couldn't quite tell if Mick had yet put our conversation in the car to the test. I tuned in until I could hear every tiny sound in the room: the sheets rustling, the bed springs creaking, the hum from the air conditioner. A little more and I could hear both their heartbeats, their small shallow breaths, and the sound of skin sliding across skin.

"Go on," Janie whispered.

Mick shivered. "I can't."

Janie chuckled. "I know for a fact that's not true." She moved against him and Mick made a choked sound, but then he spoke again, a little more breathlessly.

"No, Janie, really, I can't. I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't, honey. I already told you that."

"I know, but — oh —" Mick's protest broke off in a moan, followed by a soft high sound from Janie. For a moment there was only the slick sound of the sheets and their tandem heartbeat, and then Mick gasped.

"No, I can't do this, Janie, I'm not, I—"

"Hey, hey, sh. It's alright." A squeak of bed springs from shifting weight, and then a soft kiss, and I could hear the smile in her voice. "There's no rush. I'm not going anywhere." A little more rustling in the sheets, and then: "How's this? You were enjoying that before, I could tell."

His laugh joined hers. "Come here." He snarled at her and she giggled; a few more sounds of movement, a little more energetic this time, and then Janie's laugh turned to a shiver and a sigh.

"Where did you learn to do that? No, wait, I don't want to know. I forgot you were in the war."

His laugh was muffled. Janie's heartbeat lurched and shifted into high gear, matched by Mick's; her breath began to come hard and fast until suddenly she gasped.

"Right there," she said. "Right there, do it right there."

I heard Mick growl as he lunged. His teeth broke her flesh and she cried out, and then again, and then her heartbeat slowed to his heavy rhythm. I could hear Mick's mouth working as he swallowed.

Trudy stirred against me. "Are you dreaming, baby? Your heart's going like a jackhammer."

I turned my head to look at her. "Is it? I guess I must have been, then."

She disentangled herself from Doris and pulled herself up to lean over me, smiling. She stretched lazily before settling on top of me with a sigh.

"Do vampires dream? I've always wondered about that."

I put my arms around her, mindful of her wounds, and drew her close. "Absolutely."

She smiled down at me. "What do you dream about?"

I pulled her closer until she slid against me, her skin warm on mine in the chilly room.

"Come here and I'll show you," I said.


	7. Compulsion (2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~I came to get down, I came to get down, so get out your seat and jump around~

 

Unlike Mick, I don't have any super sniffing powers beyond my natural vampire abilities, no Spidey sense that kicks in to let me know whenever something really bad is about to happen. What I do have is a brain in my head, an instinct for self-preservation, and four centuries of experience. So when I woke up some time after midday, startled out of a sound sleep, I knew immediately that something was very wrong.

I lay in the dark and listened. Whatever had set me on alert, it didn't repeat itself for some time — and then I heard a soft thump from downstairs, too quiet for a human to hear, followed by two even quieter whispers. The voices did not belong to anyone I knew.

I was on my feet without a sound, but Doris sat up in bed as I reached for my trousers. From the look on her face, I could tell she shared my alarm. I waved her back and whispered, "Stay here."

"Josef—"

"I mean it. Stay with Trudy."

It was brighter in the hallway; I squinted at the sunlight coming up from the first floor. The door beside me opened silently and Mick came out, pulling his shirt around his shoulders.

 _Did you hear that?_ he mouthed.

 _Someone's down there,_ I answered. _Can you smell them?_

He crept toward the banister and closed his eyes. After the first inhalation, his brow furrowed. After the second, his eyes snapped open and he cried, "Josef, they've got—"

A bright blur flew up from the stairwell and smacked him in the face. He fell back with a scream — a sound I recognized at once. The silver chain had missed his neck and looped instead around his arm and shoulder; he tore at it, staggering back against the wall, and it pulled him to the floor like an anchor dragging down a sinking boat.

"Mick!" I shouted.

Another blur coming at my face — a second chain aimed at me. I moved in plenty of time and caught it in my palm; I'm old enough to have a little tolerance, but it still hurt like a bitch. I yelled through my teeth and flung the chain away, then moved to help Mick. I pulled the chain off his body and shook him until he opened his eyes; he was so young, just touching silver with his bare skin was enough to overcome him. He writhed, semi-conscious, but the poisoned marks on his face and chest were already starting to fade.

Doris and Trudy appeared in the doorway, clutching their robes and calling my name in panic. In an instant I shoved them back inside the bedroom and slammed the door. I twisted the knob until it cracked and bent; no human would be able to get out or get in.

I could hear them running up the stairs now — four of them, four male humans, humans I did not know. I didn't need Mick's sense of smell to figure out their intentions. They had expected to find us both helpless on the floor, ready to be picked off one at a time. Maybe they had been told Mick was young and could be easily subdued by silver. Maybe they thought we both could. Maybe they were just dumb-ass macho thugs with poor aim. Whatever the case, like I said before, I don't take kindly to being threatened. I didn't know who these guys thought they were dealing with, but they were about to find out.

Mick had recovered enough to see them approaching; I moved to help him up, but the first human had reached the top of the stairs and, seeing us on our feet, snatched another chain from his jacket and ran forward to tackle me. Were they kidding me with these chains? I threw him off me with ease, ducked his fist, and then grabbed him by the throat and lifted him off the ground until his cheap shoes dangled in front of my shins. I could feel my eyes burning as I glared at him.

"Bad move," I said around my fangs. "Seriously, seriously bad move."

I crushed his neck without further ado and threw the body aside, then turned to find Mick.

"Mi—"

In my path stood the second human, inches away. In his hands he clutched a wooden stake. My forward momentum only aided him as he drove it directly into my heart.

God damn, I hate getting staked.

I dropped like a stone and landed on my back. I could feel the blood welling up where the stake protruded from my chest, pooling underneath me. It was all I could feel, actually. When you're staked, your whole body goes numb, reduced to dead flesh the second your heart stops. It's pretty heinous, really. You can't move, you can't breathe, you can't do anything but lie there and wait for someone who's on your side to realize you're not dead and take the stake out. You never think about what happens if they don't.

Most humans think a stake will kill a vampire; if I was lucky, this one would be no different. From their lame attempt to get the jump on us, I had a feeling that would be the case. Surely a real assassin would have been better prepared — unless of course they'd forgotten their instructions, or they chose to believe drive-in movies instead. It's a common mistake when humans try to kill us. Usually the last they ever make.

So I had no choice but to lie there and watch everything that happened next with that weird slow-motion clarity that only happens in dreams and bodily injury. All of it went down in one minute, maybe two, but to me it stretched on forever. (Lying paralyzed with a twelve-inch piece of wood sticking out of your heart will do that to you.) There was nothing else I could do; either someone would free me, or someone would kill me. Which one it would be, I just had to wait and see. I was just glad I wasn't wearing my new shirt.

Mick saw me hit the floor, and the change in his face was astonishing. He leaped across the hallway in one long swoop and plucked my assailant up by the back of the neck, roared into his face, and prepared to make a swift end of him. But the third human snatched up the discarded chain and looped it around Mick's neck, twisting it into a garrote, and Mick screamed and fell to his knees. The human jerked him backward by the neck, exposing his chest.

"Come on," he cried. "This is the one! Hurry up!"

His friend pulled out another stake and poised it between the halves of Mick's open shirt.

From Janie's bedroom came a tremendous bang! as the banister splintered beneath a shotgun blast. Janie strode through the doorway, wearing nothing but her slip, and pumped the Winchester for another round. Her second shot hit Mick's attacker in the shoulder and nearly took off his arm; he crumpled to the floor, screaming. His two remaining accomplices jumped aside to avoid the shrapnel. One of them flailed back toward me, swearing; the other drew a revolver from his jacket. Mick tried to pull himself to his feet, but now he had buckshot in his back in addition to the welts around his neck, and he fell against the wall, half conscious. Janie raised the shotgun to fire again, and Mick and I could only watch as the human unloaded all six rounds in her direction. The shotgun hit the floor and she flew back, disappearing into the dark bedroom. She never made a sound.

"What the hell, man?" cried his friend. "Shit, you weren't supposed to kill her! She said not to kill anybody!"

"Bitch was shooting at me! Just shut up and help me so we can get out of here. Grab the chains."

"What about Richie and Jack?"

"Forget them! Come on!"

On the floor, Mick drew himself onto his haunches. His face had contorted with such rage that it was barely recognizable, his eyes so white they glowed, his fangs flashing when he opened his mouth. The sound that came out of him made the floor beneath me shake. He vaulted forward and descended on the two men before they ever saw him coming. He drove the protester's face into the wall with an impressive crunch, then seized the shooter and crushed his windpipe before he could scream. Mick bore him to the ground and buried his face in the dying man's throat, grunting between gulps, crouched over him and twitching until he sucked every drop from the corpse. He pulled free with a growl, blood dripping from his chin, and leaped over to the other body, jerking it up by its broken face to drive his fangs into the hapless bastard's neck.

I watched all this in silent awe, a captive audience to Mick's sudden, brutal transformation. I couldn't look away. (No, really, I couldn't look away. Paralyzed, remember?) Now this — this was a vampire. It was beautiful.

When both his victims were drained, Mick came to his senses enough to remember the human Janie had shot, the lone survivor of this aborted assault. He jumped over to the bleeding man and crouched over him, sniffing; then he seized the human by his mangled shoulder and hauled him up, smiling at the scream. The blood of his dead accomplices splattered his face when Mick screamed into it.

_"Who did this?"_

The human — was he Richie or Jack? we'll never know — was no assassin, and certainly no assassin of vampires. He began to blubber and splutter in terror, and amongst all the blood I could smell fresh urine. Mick jerked him forward until their faces nearly touched.

"Who. Did. This?"

He sniffed the man's face, then again, and then his nostrils twitched and his eyes opened wide. He had his answer. His mouth began to quiver with fury.

"Please, we weren't gonna hurt you!" The human begged. "We were never supposed to kill anyone!"

"Neither was I," said Mick, and snapped the man's neck with both hands.

He sat over the corpse, panting, and wiped the blood from his face with his white Van Heusen shirt. For a moment he curled in on himself; and then suddenly his head whipped up and he whirled around to look at me.

The events of the past minute or two had been unexpected enough, to say the least, but what I saw in Mick's face threw me for yet another loop. While it's true that most humans don't know a stake isn't fatal, what had never occurred to me was that Mick wouldn't know either.

He dropped to the floor beside me, his gray sharkskins sliding in the pool of my blood. His eyes cooled at once, and he put a hand over his mouth; I knew then that he thought he was looking at my corpse. Which was touching and all, but at that moment I was more concerned with getting his attention — I was starting to get dizzy from blood loss, and if I passed out he would have no way of knowing I was still alive. He had to get the stake out now.

Mick looked around desperately, but we were alone. He ran a blood-soaked hand through his hair. "Oh, God," he whispered. "This can't be happening." He touched the end of the stake, and I thought that was it, but then he jerked away and covered his mouth. He dropped his head in his hands and began to rock back and forth.

"What am I gonna do?" he said. "What am I gonna do?"

I was almost kind of moved, actually. Facing eternal life without me would be pretty tragic. But then he sat up, sniffing back his tears, and I could see he had his soldier face on. He wiped his cheeks and nodded and said, "OK, buddy, I'm gonna get you out of here," and he leaned over me to get a good grip for lifting me into his arms.

When his ear moved close to my face, I pushed what air was left in my lungs through my open mouth just hard enough to say: "Or you could take the stake out."

He flailed back and landed on his ass.

"Jesus Christ! You're alive!"

I glared at him as best as I could without actually having a facial expression. With the last bit of air I grunted, "Out!"

He stared for a second, and then the light bulb finally came on. "Oh!" He flinched as he grabbed the stake with both hands, grimacing, but it only him took one try to yank it out.

It felt like my guts came out with it. I arched on the floor, coughing as I clutched at the hole in my chest until it started to close. My mangled heart spasmed and lurched and fused back together, churning into motion, and I groaned and looked up at Mick with the best smile I could manage.

"Thanks."

I sat up as the last healing pangs faded. I shook the traces of paralysis and fear from my limbs and shuddered. "Man, I hate getting staked."

Mick gaped at me. I opened my mouth to start a witty rejoinder, but at that moment both our faces changed as the same thought hit us at the same time.

"Janie."

We scrambled to our feet and ran to the bedroom, jumping over the bodies on the floor. I could hear Doris and Trudy pounding on their door, screaming both our names; on the way past I grabbed the doorknob and wrenched it free to let them out, snapping the jamb into splinters. And then Mick and I were inside Janie's room, and what we saw stopped both of us in our tracks.

She lay on her side, one arm out as if she'd been trying to crawl. Her shotgun lay nearby, spent shells floating in the pool of blood that spread halfway across the bedroom. The smell of it hit me like a second stake. Beside me, a single breath hitched from Mick's chest.

In the doorway behind us, Doris screamed.

We went to Janie, and I turned her over, though I already knew what I'd see. Her belly and back were torn open by four bullet holes, her slip soaked black with blood. To my amazement, she was still alive — I could hear her drained heart struggling to beat. But it wouldn't for much longer.

Mick knelt beside her and smoothed her hair from her face with hands that were coated in my blood. He looked like he was about to lose it altogether.

"Janie," he said. "Janie."

Her eyes opened; they focused on Mick, and when she saw he was unharmed, she smiled. Then she saw me beside him, and the look of relief on her face made my newly-reformed heart twist. She opened her mouth to speak but instead only coughed, blood welling from her mouth. Mick made a terrible sound.

Janie looked up at the ceiling, struggling to breathe, and then she looked at me and tried to speak. She couldn't get past the J in my name. As best she could, she turned her head, arching her neck, bringing into the light the marks where Mick's teeth had been. Her eyes never left mine.

"What's she doing?" Mick whispered.

I blinked a few times before answering.

"She wants me to turn her."

"What? No!"

I ignored him; I had to make sure I understood her. I pushed Mick out of the way and took Janie's face in my hands, peering into her dying eyes.

"Jane. Jane. Look at me. Is this what you really want? Are you giving me your consent?"

With the last of her breath she managed one word: "Hurry."

Her heartbeat faltered — time had run out. I nodded, turned her face with my hand, and drove my fangs into the wounds that Mick had given her. I only took one swallow; she had nothing left. She lost consciousness instantly. I had to move fast. I shoved my sleeve up to the elbow and bit my wrist, putting a finger in the wound to stop it from healing until I could get it to her mouth.

"Janie," I said. "Come on, Janie."

Mick watched us both, transfixed. For a moment nothing happened, and then Janie's mouth moved against my skin and she latched onto me with a surprising amount of strength. Except not surprising at all, really. She clutched at my arm with both hands and drank from me like I was a well in a desert. I heard the sound that came out of me, but I didn't care — it had been so long since I truly turned anyone, I'd forgotten what it felt like. It was almost too much to handle. If she didn't stop soon, I was going to embarrass Mick with an extremely public display of affection.

Luckily for all of us, Janie abruptly let go and fell back to the floor. I cradled my wrist and caught my breath, watching her. The pulse in her neck stopped, then fluttered, and then began again. The awful holes in her belly closed and disappeared; the marks on her neck followed, and the scars of rendezvous past faded without a trace. Her slip was soaked and torn, her hair mussed and her skin filthy, but her body was utterly perfect.

Her eyes opened; in the light from the hall they had brightened to the same color as Mick's. She looked around, blinking, and then saw the four of us looming over her and smiled.

"Hey."

Doris broke into sobs, clutching Trudy. Mick stared at Janie as if in a trance. I realized I was smiling like an idiot. Hey, like I said, I'm a romantic.

Janie sat up, testing her limbs, and then looked down at her belly. "Oh, yuck." Then she saw Mick's face and touched his arm in concern. "Are you alright?" And then to me: "Who were they?"

"I don't know, but you won't get much out of them now." My sense of humor restored, I eyed Mick and added, "Though Mick got quite a bit out of two of them."

Mick dropped his eyes and wiped his stained chin with the back of his hand. Janie looked at him, and then she burst out laughing. We all stared at her, rattled by the weirdness of it all.

Suddenly she broke off, alarmed. "Downstairs," she said. "Pete and Ella are down there." She jumped to her feet and stumbled into me, knocked off balance by her new vampire strength.

"Whoa, whoa, hold on," I said. "Take it easy. You have a lot of adjusting to do."

She shook me off. "I can contemplate the marvels of the universe later. Right now I'd like to find out if my friends are alright."

She headed for the door with all of us trailing behind her. On her way past the girls, she paused long enough to give the weeping Doris a hug. "Hey, honey, I'm OK. Shhh. It's OK. Everything's gonna be fine. Alright?"

Doris nodded, sniffling, and Janie smiled at Trudy before going out in the hall. Once there, she stopped short.

"Good lord!"

"Yeah, about that," I said. "We made a bit of a mess. Sorry."

"A bit? It looks like a Hammer movie out here!" She stared at the four dead men, the puddles of blood, the silver chains, and the two abandoned stakes, one of which was still wet with my blood. She picked it up and turned to me. "Mick—?"

"Me," I said. "One of the bastards staked me."

"What, again? What is it with you?"

Mick looked from her to me, dumbfounded. "How many times have you been staked?"

I grinned. "Let's just say that in my day, Daddy didn't come out on the porch with a rifle."

We made our way downstairs, Mick and myself in front just in case anyone might be foolish enough to still be hanging around. Before we got halfway down the stairs, Janie stopped in her tracks and cried out, flattening herself against the wall. I took her by the arm to steady her.

"What's wrong?"

She looked at me in terror, hyperventilating. Mick took her into his arms.

"The sun," he said. "Doris—"

Doris and Trudy ran ahead to draw the curtains while Janie composed herself. "I didn't think it would be that bad," she said into Mick's chest.

He kissed the top of her head. "I know."

From the living room below, Trudy screamed.

We were downstairs in an instant. Nothing looked out of place at first, until we came around the first sofa to see Pete and Ella lying on the floor. Pete, who was human, had been knocked over the head with something; a nasty lump swelled on his forehead, but I could hear his heart beating strong and steady. Ella, who was a vampire, was not in as great shape — she lay on her back beside the sofa, her right leg blistered yellow and gray from sunlight, her eyes staring up at the ceiling. A stake protruded from the bodice of her negligee.

"Ella!" Janie dropped to the floor and yanked the stake from Ella's chest so hard that it flew across the room and hit the back wall. Ella convulsed, gasping, and clutched at her chest until the hole began to close. It took longer than it should have; the sun exposure had weakened her. Eventually she looked up at us, and her eyes widened in shock.

"...Janie!"

"Are you alright? Can you sit up?" Janie and Doris helped her to the sofa, where they examined her sun-poisoned leg. "Oh my God!" Janie cried. "Let me help you—" She raised her forearm toward Ella's mouth, then realized what she was doing and paused. "Oh. Um."

"I'll get something," said Doris, and she ran off for the kitchen.

"Pete—" Ella gasped. "Is he—"

"He's alright," I said. "Just down for the count."

"I heard them come in, but I'd had too much champagne, and the curtains were open, and I couldn't see where they were until they were on me. I guess one of them got Pete while the others staked me." She shook her head. "I'm so sorry, Janie. I should have stopped them."

"I don't want to hear that." Janie said. "Everyone's OK, that's what's important."

"But you... you're…"

Janie smiled. "Let's be honest. We all knew I'd do it one day, right?" She shrugged. "At least I still have my girlish figure."

Doris returned with a half-empty bottle of O negative, which Ella accepted with gratitude. After she polished it off, I could see the mottled skin on her leg beginning to fade. She would be fine.

Janie looked at me, and her smile had disappeared. "Josef, what did they want?"

"From what I saw... they wanted Mick."

"What?"

"Josef's right," Mick said. His face was equal parts livid and miserable. "They came for me."

"But why?" said Doris.

Janie's face had gone smooth and hard. "Coraline."

"No way," I said. "She's not that crazy." But then I got a look at Mick's face. "Oh dear God. Tell me she's not that crazy."

Mick looked at the floor. "That last guy... I smelled it on him. They didn't know who she was, but I could see her. It was her. She paid them to bring me to her."

Ella's jaw dropped. "My God."

"I'm so sorry, Janie," Mick said. "I'm so, so sorry."

"She was my friend," Janie said. Her eyes almost paled as anger flashed in them. "How could — she was my _friend_."

"Hell hath no fury," I said.

Mick slumped into the nearest sofa, oblivious to the mess his clothes made on the upholstery. After what he'd just been through, I was surprised he was still coherent. He sighed wretchedly and dropped his face into his hands. Ella had recovered enough to go check on the still-unconscious Pete; Janie struggled to master herself as Doris looked on anxiously.

"Look," I said to them all. "There's nothing else we can do right now, not until the sun goes down. So here's what's gonna happen." I checked the clock over the hearth. "It's almost 3:30; sunset's in two hours. We're all going to help Janie pack up as much of her stuff as she wants to bring with her. She's coming to my place until we get this straightened out." I looked at Janie. "You know what we have to do. I'm sorry, sweetheart."

Janie glanced around her house. To her credit, she only looked sad for a moment; she knew the game. There was no way to get rid of the mess upstairs, much less the bodies, without outside help. She shrugged. "Eh, I've been meaning to get a new place anyway."

"That's my girl. Let me know when you're ready, and I'll call the Cleaner." I turned to Ella. "You and Pete can come too if you want."

Ella shook her head. "No, I want to take care of him myself. Coraline's got no reason to come after me."

I nodded. "OK then. Let's do this. Mick and I will bar the door, and then I call dibs on the shower."

"No way!" cried Janie. "Look at this thing I'm wearing!"

"So take it off," I smirked.

"I can hurt you now, you know."

I pouted. "Oh, come on. Who's Daddy's little girl?"

The look on her face made me wish that we could be photographed. I burst out laughing.

During all this, Trudy had stumbled into one of the loveseats, where she sat in silence with her knees drawn up to her chest. The poor thing had never been through anything like this in her short life; she'd come to this party expecting a thrill and had instead been witness to the worst of vampire violence. She'd handled herself very well, in my opinion. Now that we had a plan, I went over and sat next to her as she hugged herself against her trembling. I patted her on the shoulder and smiled.

"So... same time next week?"

She looked at me, wide-eyed, and then suddenly she began to laugh.

"Where on Earth did Doris find you?" she said, crying and laughing at the same time. I took her in my arms and held her until she stopped shaking.

"God broke the mold, baby," I grinned. "God broke the mold."


	8. There's No You

The morning paper of February 16, 1956 carried a short blurb about a house fire in the Malibu hills. A single home had been destroyed, belonging to a Miss J. Silver, age 31; the cinder block shell remained, but everything inside was reduced to ash. The home's owner had not yet been contacted, but since no evidence of casualties or foul play had been found, the case was closed and the fire officially declared an accident.

The Cleaner had done her job to perfection; the Los Angeles crew was one of the best. It had to be — celebrities aren't the only ones who overdo things in Hollywood. I'd seen her around, but I rarely required her assistance; I'm a self-service kind of guy. But in this particular situation, her help had been gratefully accepted. When I let her in, she didn't bat an eye at the blood congealing on the living room floor, the overpowering (to vampires) stench of blood and death from upstairs, or the dishabille of the humans and vamps scurrying around inside. She merely nodded to me and then stood aside to let her crew assess the job. That's what I like about Cleaners — all action and no talk.

Ella had taken Pete home when the sun set, but Trudy had bravely chosen to remain with Doris, who refused to leave Janie's side. The bloodiest of us had bathed, and we had all changed clothes and pulled ourselves into reasonable order; we spent the next few hours collecting Janie's things and lining up suitcases beside the door. To her credit, Janie only packed her clothes, jewelry, and a few personal photos and documents — she didn't try to save knick-knacks or collections or anything like that. Those things could be replaced, and carrying too much out might attract unwanted attention.

When the Cleaner arrived, Janie came forward to meet her and shake her hand. I knew the Cleaner could smell the change in her, but she was discreet enough not to mention it.

"Are you the owner?"

"Yes, I'm—"

"No — never give your name, dear. We work anonymously." She glanced around. "Are you looking for a clean-up or a cover-up?"

"I don't think what's upstairs can be cleaned by anyone. No offense."

The Cleaner smiled. "Nice and easy. We can do that." She called to one of her assistants. "Take the kits back — bring the kerosene." To Janie she said, "We'll start whenever you're ready."

Janie took one last look around the house she'd made so many memories in. I felt bad for her, I really did; but there was no other way to take care of this. At last she nodded and picked up a suitcase. "Thank you," she said.

"That's what we're here for," the Cleaner replied. "Don't worry, my dear. No one will ever know what happened here."

Janie took Doris' hand and walked out without looking back. Mick and Trudy followed, each carrying some bags; I grabbed the rest and gave a nod to the Cleaner and her crew.

"Thanks again, ladies. This is a big help."

"It always is, Mr. Kostan," smiled the Cleaner.

We left them to their work and made a discreet exit, one car at a time, each leaving in different directions. Mick drove Janie's Karmann Ghia, as she hadn't adjusted to her new reflexes enough yet to get behind the wheel of a car. Doris drove her Mercury with Trudy beside her, and I took the Corvette on my own. By the time we all finally met up in my garage, we could hear the faint sound of sirens in the distance. Everyone ignored it.

As we brought the bags in, I could see Mick fidgeting, like he had a pebble in his shoe — flinching when he picked up a suitcase, grimacing when he turned, and so on. I tried not to grin.

"Something wrong?"

"I don't know, it's really weird," Mick said. "My shoulder hurts. It hasn't felt like that since I got hurt in the war. Could I have—"

"Oh shit," said Janie

"What?"

"Yeah," I said, "I guess we should have taken care of that before we left. Hm."

Mick looked at us, mystified. "Taken care of what?"

"You have buckshot in your back," I said brightly. "We'll have it cut it out at some point." Seeing his face, I laughed. "What, you really don't remember that? I guess you were kind of preoccupied at the time."

Mick blinked, befuddled, then turned to Janie. "Wait. You—"

"Yeah, I did." If she'd had more blood in her, she might have blushed. "I'm usually a better shot than that. And I thought I had slugs in there."

"Oh, that would have been so much more fun," I said. "But buckshot will take longer. So that's a bonus. Come on, we'll do it in the kitchen."

Janie and I carried the bags inside, while Mick trailed behind us calling, "Wait, what? Dig it out? Hey! Josef..."

I sat him down on a bar stool and had him take off the white t-shirt he was wearing. In the fluorescent light I could clearly see six or seven gray welts spread across his left shoulder; his vampire healing had pushed the lead up just underneath the skin. From experience I knew how annoying an unretrieved bullet could be; a half dozen itchy pellets must be maddening. It wouldn't take long to pop them out — or at least, it wouldn't if someone else was doing it. I intended to savor the moment.

A vampire's kitchen might look just like a human's, but open a drawer and you'll see how different they are. Humans fill theirs with silverware, can openers, spatulas, chopsticks, that kind of thing; but a vampire's cutlery serves an entirely different purpose. The drawer I opened glittered with knives, scalpels, syringes, and a fine assortment of tongs and tweezers. I picked out a scalpel and a pair of forceps and examined them in the light. When Mick saw them, his eyes went wide.

"Whoa, hey—"

"Sit down, you big baby. You act like you're the first vamp to get shot around here." I grabbed a dish towel and threw it over my shoulder. "Just turn around and keep still. And remember, this will hurt you more than it hurts me."

Doris and Trudy peered over the bar, chins in hand, to watch; Janie had come around behind me to look at her handiwork.

"Oh, Mick, I'm so sorry."

"Oh, he'll be fine. You saved his life — those morons would have killed him with that silver before he stopped fighting them." Mick started to say something, but I pushed his head down and leaned over my work. "Getting shot is good for a vamp. Builds character. You should just be glad they don't use muskets anymore. Now hold still—"

"Ow! Ah!"

"Oh for God's sake. Am I going to have to hold you down?"

"I think you should," Doris said.

"Quiet, you." I ignored Trudy's snickering and got down to business. One quick twist and the first pellet fell into my palm. "Here, Janie, get that blood before it drips on my floor. Janie?"

I glanced back at her. She stood frozen, staring at the blood running down Mick's back. In all of these shenanigans I kept forgetting that she was a newborn vampire, turned for less than twelve hours, and now I suddenly realized that she had never been fed. The sight of fresh blood welling from Mick's skin brought matters rapidly to the fore. I took her by the arm. "Janie—"

She jerked from my grasp and hissed at me, eyes pale and fangs bared. Mick turned to stare at her, and Doris gasped; Janie clapped a hand over her mouth and backed away.

"Everybody take it easy," I said. "She just needs to eat, that's all."

Doris came around the bar. "Let me help—"

At the sight of her Janie gasped and stumbled back, putting out a hand with a choked "No!"

I blocked Doris' path. "You're kind to offer, as always, darling, but I prefer you not dead. Let me handle this. Here." I dropped the tools on the counter and handed her the towel so she could clean up Mick's back.

Mick, however, had risen from the stool. Doris blinked at him; he ignored her and moved toward us, staring at Janie. His eyes had paled to match hers, and he licked the point of one fang as he came forward. When Janie saw him, her eyes flashed and she pushed me aside. She growled at Mick and bared her teeth; he snarled back and hissed as he reached for her. I stepped between them and pulled Janie back before she could touch him.

"Oh no you don't. Vampire blood is not going to be your first meal. You two can go Call Of The Wild on each other some other time. Come on."

I dragged her away from Mick and pulled her over to the bar, putting the counter between us and the others. Mick tried to follow, but Doris bravely put a hand on his arm.

"Wait," she said. "Not yet."

Mick said nothing, but he let her maneuver him back to the stool, where she wet the towel and scrubbed the blood off his already-healed wound. He calmed down, but he never took his eyes off Janie and me.

Janie's eyes had cooled by the time I got her out of the kitchen, but her whole body was trembling. I put my hands on her shoulders and made her look at me.

"You alright?"

"I didn't know it would be like that. I mean, I did, I should have, but...damn."

I chuckled. "It doesn't matter how many new vamps you've been around, honey, it's a whole different ballgame when it's you." I opened the bar fridge and took out a bottle of O-pos. "Here. It's cold, but it'll take the edge off."

As she opened the bottle, I could see her remembering all the times she'd done this same thing for us — all the bottles she'd opened, all the drinks she'd poured, and the sudden realization that for all those years, something inside her had been repulsed by pouring the blood of her own species as food for another. All that had changed. The smell hit her, a scent she'd known for years but was now smelling for the first time. Her fangs dropped as she clutched the bottle with both hands and drank the whole thing in desperate gulps.

"This is my fault," I said. "You should have fed as soon as you were turned. I'm not scoring so high on the sire thing so far."

After the last swallow, Janie looked into the empty bottle and licked her lips, pondering. "It tastes better than I thought it would. I never told anyone this, but I always hated the smell of blood."

"Well, you're a little more biased now, kiddo."

She looked up at me, and then she managed a little smile. "I'm glad it was you, Josef."

I tucked her hair behind her ear. "Yeah, well, just don't expect me to go all kind and paternal on you or anything."

"Why start now?"

She laughed, and I knew she'd be alright for a bit longer. I'd get her something more palatable after I finished with Mick. It's important not to rush these things. We went back into the kitchen, where Mick, Doris, and Trudy watched us with varying levels and types of apprehension.

"Stop looking at me like that," Janie said. "Don't make me more embarrassed than I already am."

I put the coffee pot on to warm up something more substantial for the three of us, and while we waited, I got the rest of the buckshot out of Mick's back. Mick, looking rather embarrassed himself after almost ravishing Janie on my kitchen floor in front of everyone, sat meekly on the bar stool and scratched his hair in silence. He held still for the first two pellets, chastised, but by the third he was flinching and hissing between his teeth, jerking away from my hands. The more he squirmed, the slower I went and the harder I yanked.

"Ow! Ow, what are you doing back there?"

I twisted my wrist. "Oh, I'm sorry, did that hurt?"

He craned his neck to glare at me. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"You have no idea." I dropped another pellet in the sink. "I'd be done already if you weren't being such a cry-baby."

"Yeah, well, you better hope I never have to do this to you one day."

"No, see, unlike you, I know when to duck."

"And that's why I had to pull a stake out of your heart yesterday. Ah! Ow!!"

I dropped the last pellet in the sink and licked his blood from my fingers. "There," I said cheerfully. "All done. Have a drink and you're good as new."

I washed my hands while he put his shirt back on, and then I checked the percolator and found its contents had warmed up nicely. I poured a glass for Janie, one for Mick, and the rest for myself, and we sat at the dining room table for a much-needed late night snack. I had no food in the house, but Doris had packed some at Janie's, and she and Trudy shared a little on a single plate. We all looked at each other around the table, an odd little dinner party, quiet after our long strange night. I watched Mick watch Janie, who was watching Doris, who was watching Trudy. They were all so young — I figured they could use some time to digest all this, pun intended. Eventually it got a little too quiet, though, and I yawned and checked the clock.

"The sun'll be up soon. I don't know about you guys, but I need some Zs. Getting staked makes me cranky."

All that did was remind them of the larger situation, which made them even more uncomfortable. "Don't worry," I said. "This house is perfectly safe. No one will be sneaking in here today, I guarantee you. What we all need right now is to get some sleep. Tomorrow night...well." I shrugged. No sense bringing that up until I figured out how I wanted to proceed.

I could see how tired Mick was; the previous 24 hours had taken a lot out of him. Ever the gentleman, he said, "Janie's taking my spot. I'll sleep in the bed."

"Don't be silly! I'm not taking your anything. You need to rest after what you've been through."

"What I've been through? Janie, you — all this is because of me. The least I can do is—"

"I don't want to hear that. I won't let you punish yourself for this. I'll be fine. I spent thirty years sleeping in a bed; one more night won't hurt."

"Actually..." I interrupted them. "Don't get me wrong, watching you two out-nice each other is nauseating and all, but Mick has a point. You need to sleep in the cold today."

"Then we can share," Janie said. "It's a big freezer."

Mick's gloom suddenly lifted. "Yeah. We can do that."

I shook my head. "Not a good idea. When Janie wakes up she's going to be crazy hungry. She'll need someone to help her out."

"I can do that, can't I?"

"Please. You can't even control yourself, much less someone else." That hurt him, I could see, but I was tired and irritable and in no mood for discussion. "I'm her sire," I said. "Today she sleeps with me. After that, Janie is her own vampire."

She had started to protest, offended at being talked over, but that last word sobered her. Finally she nodded. "You're probably right. Just for today."

"Well, I'm not leaving you alone," Doris said. "I'll sleep in the bed in Josef's room."

"Me too," Trudy said.

Mick looked at the four of us, one at a time. His face had gone oddly calm. "Fine," he said. He drained his glass and stood. "I guess that's it."

Janie followed him from the table. Trudy and Doris headed for my bedroom, but I stayed behind long enough to listen to Mick and Janie converse at ultra-quiet vampire volume for the first time, framed together in the dark hallway.

"Mick, don't be like this. You're not responsible for what happened today."

"But I am. Those men were sent to kidnap me, and instead they killed you. Now you're—"

"Now I'm alive instead of dead. I chose to survive. You didn't do this to me. Josef did." She grinned, but Mick didn't, and she gave up the attempt. "I chose my way. I would have chosen it one day anyway."

"How can you say that?"

"Because I'm not you. I'm me. And I'm telling you I'm OK with this. I need to know you're OK with it too. Hm?" She peered at him until he gave her a reluctant nod; satisfied, she grinned and stretched up to whisper in his ear. "We have unfinished business, you know. You can't hurt me now."

Mick gazed down at her, and the odd look returned to his face. "No one is going to hurt you again," he said. "I promise you that."

Her brow wrinkled, but he kissed her on the forehead and walked away to his room. She watched him go, and when she came back to me she was still glancing after him, frowning.

"You know Mick," I said. "Always dramatic. He'll be fine after he broods a little." I steered her toward my room. "Come on. Bedtime."

She yawned before she could stop herself, and then looked at me and giggled like the teenager she'd been when I first met her. "Sleeping with you again is going to be so weird."

"Thanks," I said. "Oh, by the way, in case you forgot, I sleep naked."

She arched an eyebrow. "I didn't forget. And in case you forgot, I don't."

~

Once Janie lay down in the icy bliss of my freezer, whether I was there and what I was or was not wearing became irrelevant; she was sound asleep before I climbed in beside her and closed the lid. It was her first day's rest, and she slept like the dead; getting staked had worn me out too, and I wasn't far behind her. But I bounce back pretty fast after four centuries, and I woke up in plenty of time to dress, drink, and heat up a bottle of newly-donated O positive, which I left with a glass on the vanity. I paused to admire the view of Doris and Trudy curled up with each other on my bed, and then I climbed back into the freezer and waited for Sleeping Beauty to rise and shine.

It was almost 4pm when she did; apparently she was going to be an early riser like me. She jerked and gasped in the dark — waking up that first time is a confused claustrophobia, an unsettling kind of panic, half-remembering what happened to you and overwhelmed by hunger. I held her still and spoke in her ear.

"Sh, Janie, it's OK, it's me. It's Josef. You're alright."

Her heart pounded as she struggled against me. "Let me out, let me out!"

I pushed the freezer lid open and she sprang up, gasping. She squinted against the dim light in the dressing room and clutched her chest until her panic began to fade.

"I thought I was dead," she said.

"Well, technically..."

She looked at me, wide-eyed. "I was dreaming about what happened. I kept dreaming it, over and over. I could feel the bullets going through me, all the blood coming out, feeling myself dying — and then you were there — but it wasn't you, it was her, it was Coraline, and she—"

I put a hand on her arm to steady her and she buried her face in my chest, holding on to me in the cold air fogging up from the freezer. I put an arm around her until she stopped shivering.

"All that's over," I said. "You're alive, kiddo, and that's the way you're going to stay." I tilted her chin up. "Coraline is not the vampire you're going to be. Not with me around. OK?"

She nodded and gave me a good attempt at a smile, but it turned to a grimace as she doubled over and groaned, clutching her stomach.

"And there's my cue," I said. I reached for the warm O positive and poured her a cup. "Here. Careful — one cup at a time. You'll make yourself sick. I just had this freezer cleaned."

At the sight of blood her entire demeanor changed. She snatched the cup from me and drained its contents; when it was empty, her eyes snapped open, pale in the dark. "More." I grinned and did as commanded. When that cupful was gone too, Janie opened her eyes more slowly and looked at me from beneath her brows. Suddenly she threw the empty cup across the closet and pounced on me, pushing me back against the freezer's edge to kiss me. She growled against my mouth, and then I felt a sting as she bit my lower lip and sucked at the blood. I pushed her back, not too hard, and she instantly came out of it.

"Oh — Josef, I'm sorry—"

"Don't be." I dabbed at my punctured lip until it healed. "Trust me, don't be. Damn. Here, take the bottle."

She downed a few more gulps and slowly regained her composure. At that point I figured it was safe to acknowledge the rustlings I'd been hearing outside the dressing room door.

"Come on in, ladies, don't be shy. Have no fear, Josef is here."

The door opened just enough for a sheepish-looking Doris to peep in. "Sorry, we were just worried about—"

"I'm fine," Janie said. Carefully she began to climb out of the freezer; Doris came in to help her, but Janie waved her back. "No! No. Just... give me a minute." She took another swig from the bottle and looked at me, bewildered.

"Has she always smelled that good?"

"Yep."

"Is that what I smelled like to you? All these years?"

"Mm-hm."

She shook her head. "How do you do it?"

I smiled at her. "Practice, kiddo. Practice."

Trudy had slipped in behind Doris; the two of them stood together in the doorway, filtered sunlight from the bedroom shining through their nightgowns and turning their mussed hair into soft halos. Doris kept looking from me to Janie, over and over, and I could see the poor girl's struggle to define her new division of loyalty. I decided to offer her some encouragement.

In Janie's ear, I said, "Would you like to practice now?"

She bit her lip and stared at Doris. How many times had she been in that position, ready and willing to serve as lesson one in vampire table manners? Now she knew exactly what all those vamps had been thinking when they looked at her. For the first time she fully understood what it was we controlled. It was a lot to take in at once. But I knew they both could handle it.

I held out a hand to Doris, and she came forward to take it. I'm afraid I got a little caught up in the moment — Mick's abject terror when faced with his first freshie had been stimulating in its own way, but this was something else entirely. I moved too fast and startled Doris when I pulled her against me, her back to my chest, and kept hold of her with one arm around her waist. With the other I held her wrist out to Janie.

"Share and share alike," I said.

I could feel Doris' heart pounding; she moved against me, but not in an attempt to escape. Janie came close, then closer, until only Doris was between us, touching us both. She took Doris' wrist in her hand and looked at her from pale eyes.

"Don't be scared, Dee."

Doris' voice shook. "I could never be scared of you, Jay."

Janie looked over her to meet my eyes. I bared my fangs at her and waited. She brought Doris' wrist to her mouth, smelled the skin once, then growled over it and lunged.

Doris cried out and writhed between us; I bent my head to smell her and licked my old marks on her neck. I listened as her heartbeat and Janie's moved into the same rhythm, and my own quickly followed. I held them both in place and let Janie take a handful of wet, noisy gulps, but the first time her grip tightened around Doris' arm, I drew back and pulled them apart.

"Janie. Janie, stop."

She made a noise against Doris' skin, but when I pushed harder she broke free, gasping, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Oh, my God."

"You can say that again," gasped Doris. She turned in my arms and kissed me. I pulled her against me and broke the kiss to lick the blood from Janie's marks in her arm. I was sorely tempted to follow them with my own, but someone here had to keep a cool head, and I was supposed to be the sire in all this. Or something. As I had told Doris, I preferred her not dead, so it behooved us all to stop while we were ahead.

Doris stretched against me, then turned her smile on Janie. "Mick is going to be so jealous."

"I'll go get him," offered Trudy, a little breathlessly. "I'm feeling neglected over here."

She slipped out of the dressing room while Janie composed herself, and I grabbed a handkerchief to bind Doris' wrist until the second round. "Let's move into the bedroom, shall we?" I said. "It's a bit cramped in here."

I closed the freezer lid and grabbed the almost-empty bottle while Janie followed Doris into the bedroom. From the look on her face, she was anticipating round two even more than me. I took a breath to calm myself. Somebody up there really liked me.

From down the hall came Trudy's frantic voice.

"Josef!"

Her tone stopped us in our lecherous tracks. Janie and I looked at each other, and without a word all three of us hurried down the hall to Mick's room. There Trudy stood in front of the open closet door, holding a piece of paper and looking at me with her dark eyes large and anxious.

"He's gone."

"What do you mean, gone?" I said, but as I took the paper from her, I already knew. The hastily scribbled words only confirmed it.

_I won't let anyone else die because of me. It's better this way. Thank you for trying. —M._

I crushed the note in my fist. "That stupid, self-righteous son of a..." I trailed off into my native language, something I hadn't done in a few decades. I shoved the paper into Janie's hand. "He went back to Coraline."

"What?!" She read the note, then swore. "Damn it, Mick, what the hell are you thinking?"

"He isn't," I snapped. "Mick doesn't think. He reacts. I guess to him this is the honorable solution."

"We have to go get him," Janie said.

"Yeah, OK, how about no?" I was surprised by how angry I felt, but I didn't bother to hide it. "In case you forgot, Coraline killed you yesterday. You just want to drop by for some girl talk?"

"She did it to make Mick go back to her. If he does, she wins. I'm not gonna let that happen."

I was suddenly furious. "No. No. I've had enough of this chivalrous martyr bullshit. He just spit in the face of everything I did for him, everything you did for him, everything. That's it. To hell with Mick. He wants Coraline? He can fucking have her."

I marched out of the bedroom with Janie hot on my heels. "He doesn't want Coraline!" she cried. "He's only going to her because he thinks it'll get her off our backs! You're just gonna let him do that?"

"If it gets me out of that freak show for good, you're damn right I am."

"You're supposed to be his friend!"

"Says who?"

"Says you! Come on, Josef, don't give me that too-cool-for-school vampire crap. I've known you for fifteen years, and I've never seen you take to someone like you took to Mick. You care about him. How can you leave him with Coraline? I barely know him, and I'm not willing to let him endure that for my sake. I'm going to go get him."

I whirled on her. "Absolutely not. You're a smart girl, Janie — it's what I've always liked about you. Don't get stupid now. A set of fangs doesn't make you Cora's equal."

"I didn't say I was going to take on Coraline. I said I was going to get Mick back."

"You can't have one without the other. Take my word on that."

Janie shook her head. "You know what I always liked about you, Josef?"

"I know one thing."

She ignored me. "No matter how much you strutted around and how much bullshit you talked, you always showed up when I needed you."

I opened my mouth, and then I closed it again.

"You were going to confront Coraline tonight anyway, and you know it. So do it. And while you're dealing with her, I'll get Mick to come back with us if I have to drag him by his hair."

"Look, Cora is obviously not running on all pistons right now. Do you think she's going to let Mick waltz off with another woman? You've been a vampire for 24 hours. You're not ready for that."

She crossed her arms. "So instead you're going to leave your day-old newborn here alone with two especially delicious humans?"

I paused, then pointed at her. "You are way too good at this."

"I learned from the best."

I turned to head for my room. "You're staying in the car," I called behind me. "And we're not going anywhere until the sun goes down."

"Whatever you say," she yelled back.

As I changed my clothes, my anger began to shift. I should have known Mick would do something like this — this kind of lame-ass gesture of noble stupidity had his name written all over it. I never should have let him sleep alone; I let myself get distracted by the novelty of Janie's new and improved charms. Mick had thrown everything I had done for him back in my face, but a part of me knew that, in his moronic way, he really did think he was doing the right thing. He thought if he went back now, everything would just be magically fixed, and I would let the matter drop. Oh ye of little brain. I had a bone to pick with Coraline, and I didn't give a good goddamn whether Mick was standing at her side or mine when I picked it. As far as I was concerned, they both had a lot to answer for.

I put on a pair of black trousers and a gray shirt with no sentimental value — I didn't really think anything nasty would go down, but you never could tell with Coraline, and I was still in mourning for my pink Valentine shirt, which had somehow been left among the wreckage at Janie's. When I walked back into the kitchen to make myself a drink, I found Doris and Trudy sitting at the bar. They had changed out of their nightgowns and were sharing a snack from the food Doris had packed. I joined them with a glass of O-pos and brandy — I should have had the O-pos straight, since I was still replacing my lost blood supply, but I needed a little fortification.

I sat next to Trudy and watched her pick at the fruit she was eating. "You hanging in there?"

She smiled wryly. "This isn't quite how I expected my week to turn out, but I'm OK."

"Do you need to call anyone? Family, someone who might be worried?"

"No. My mama lives in Fresno. As long as I call her once a week, she doesn't pry too much."

I chuckled. "Well, we'll take good care of you for her. If we haven't scared you away, that is."

She brought a piece of tangerine to her lips. "No. It was kind of exciting, actually. I've never seen that much blood before."

I patted her arm. "You'll fit right in."

Janie walked in, smoothing down her hair. She had changed into a pair of black pedal-pushers and a matching turtleneck, and had tied her hair back into a pony-tail beneath a wide black band. I raised an eyebrow.

"Are we stopping for some cat burglary while we're out?"

She rolled her eyes. "Are we doing this or what?"

I turned to Doris and Trudy. "You two stay here. No, no discussion, I mean it. Bad enough I have to take Irma Vep along, but I'm not getting two humans mixed up in this. You don't need the danger, and I don't need the distraction."

Doris batted her lashes at me. "And they say you don't care about humans."

I eyed her. "Drink more juice. I'm going to be hungry when I get back." I flashed a leer at her, but her grin faded and she put a hand on my arm.

"Be careful, Josef. Don't do anything you'll regret."

"Who, me?" I patted her hand. "Don't worry. I've been dealing with Cora's temper since Lincoln was president. I can handle her."

Doris smiled, but her eyes were wet and her chin trembled. "Just look out for Janie, OK?"

"I'm her sire," I said. "That's kind of my job." I gave her my best grin, and she sniffed and nodded. I finished my drink and stood. "We'll be back in a little while. With or without Mick."

"With," Janie said.

I didn't answer. I stuck my keys in my pocket with one hand, pulled Janie along behind me with the other, and headed for the front door. When I opened it, I almost ran into the person standing on the front step. When I saw him, I stopped in my tracks and sighed. I dropped my face into my hand and rubbed my eyes.

"Oh, perfect. This is just what I need."

"And a good evening to you too, Mr. Kostan," Lance said.


	9. Vierd Blues

I have to say I wasn't too surprised to find Coraline's brother on my front step. Twenty four hours was more than enough time for him to learn what his sister had done, and it went without saying that he'd have an opinion on the subject. That didn't make his appearance any less annoying, though. I pulled Janie out and closed the door before the girls inside could notice; with Janie staring silently behind me, I crossed my arms and greeted my guest.

"Lance."

"You remember my name. I'm flattered." He looked at my hasty ensemble and Janie's all-black getup. "Going for a midnight stroll, are we?"

Janie drew in a little breath when he spoke. I remembered what I'd felt when I first encountered him — I don't scare easily, but I know when I'm outgunned, and the power Lance projected was pretty intense. To her, he must have been terrifying. He noticed her shrink back behind me, and he examined her a little more closely; then he raised an eyebrow, and his good eye glittered in amusement.

"Another one? Are you starting a crèche?"

"Janie, Lance, Lance, Janie. You can thank your sister for this one too."

"Really? She doesn't seem like Coraline's usual type."

"Yeah, well, that's because I had to turn her after the brain donors Cora sent to kidnap Mick while we slept decided to shoot her full of holes instead."

His amusement faltered. "She sent humans?"

I nodded. "She probably meant to kill them afterward."

"Mm, yes. That makes sense. That's what I would have done."

"Me too," I said. "Except, oh yeah, I wouldn't have done something that ridiculous in public just to get my ex back after he left me because I'm ten pounds of crazy in a five pound bag. What the hell was she thinking?"

"She's Coraline. She doesn't think. She acts."

"Where have I heard that before?" Janie muttered.

I ignored her. "And you've already heard the whole story from your vampire mafia or whatever, and now you've come to tell me not to mess with your sister or you'll beat me up behind the gym after school."

His good humor returned. "Something like that. Don't get me wrong, Mr. Kostan, I'm as displeased with my sister's behavior as you are. And I'm certainly not pleased that she's managed to get that vagabond under her skirts again. Rest assured, she will answer for her actions. But she is my sister. I will not allow any harm to come to her."

"Unless you're the one doing the harming."

"Naturally."

I felt Janie shudder behind me. I knew what Lance was doing, and of course it rankled me, but I wasn't in the mood for a pissing contest, especially since I'm not stupid enough to tangle with a vampire like him. I was flattered that he thought I posed a threat, but he had wasted his time traipsing over here to defend her.

"Well you can lower the cannons," I said, "because I have no intention of hurting Coraline, as much as I might enjoy it. Not that she extended the same courtesy to me."

He seemed surprised. "Really? If that's true, then I admire your restraint. And your wisdom."

"I've lost enough blood this week." I said. "And a really nice shirt, too." I took a moment of silence for my lost Armani, and then I added, "Tussling with Coraline is not my idea of a good time. What I want is to let her know that I know. That's it. Having the moral high ground is revenge enough for me — it happens so rarely."

He turned his gaze on Janie. "So tell me, then, why exactly are you taking this infant with you?"

"We're getting Mick back," she declared.

I sighed.

Lance tilted his head. "Oh, aren't you a sweet little darling? How precious. You'll make a very pretty corpse when my sister tears off your head."

I glared at Janie. " _She_ is not getting anything from anyone," I said. "I have to keep her close by because she's a day old and I'm her sire. She's staying in the car. As for Mick, I don't give a damn if he comes back with us or not. I did my part. My sentence is over. He can do whatever he wants."

"Yes, I can see how much you don't care." He examined me with those mismatched eyes, and then he gave a little shrug. "You seem like a rational vampire, Mr. Kostan, and I sense enough age in you to prevent an overreaction to my sister's poor manners. But I also sense enough power in you that you might not restrain yourself if she tests you. Can you control your temper?"

"Isn't that what I just said?"

His living eye flared white; his dead eye flashed black fire as he shot forward until his face loomed an inch from mine. Janie gasped and flattened herself against the front door. I kept my cool — he might have been out of my league, but threatening a vampire on his home turf is not how we operate. Being who he was, Lance would honor that, which was also why he knew that I meant what I had said. I stood my ground and met his stare with as bored a look as I could muster. My reaction apparently pleased him, because after a moment he cooled off and took a step back. Smoothing down his lapels, he smiled.

"Coraline will not misbehave like this again. But I will be the one to inform her of that. The reason I'm letting you go to her is because I want you to collect that boy as much as this little one does — by all means, go and get him, and while you're there, say what you must to restore your pride. But no more. Take that creature away from my sister, and keep your temper in check, Mr. Kostan, and you and I will have no cause to quarrel."

"Oh happy day," I said. I turned to Janie. "Come on, kiddo, let's go. It's not getting any earlier, and I'm not a fan of loitering on my own doorstep." I waved a hand by my ear. "Speaking of that, remind me to buy a bug light."

"I'll be watching you, Mr. Kostan," Lance said.

"Good for you. It's nice to have an audience for—"

When I turned back, he was gone. The yard was empty all the way down to the streetlights.

"OK, that's kind of creepy."

Janie clutched my arm and shivered. "That's certainly the word I'd pick."

I patted her arm and grinned. "Bet you'll stay in the car now, won't you?"

~

I was indeed alone when I walked up the lighted path to Coraline's front door. Through the glass wall I could see the lights dimmed low inside; a fire burned in the hearth, and candles flickered among the furniture in the living room. As I rang the doorbell I could hear the strains of Billie Holiday drifting from the hi-fi. I rang a second time, then a third, and then the door opened and there stood Coraline. She leaned against the door frame in a red satin dressing gown and matching heels, not a hair out of place, flawless and serene as always. When she saw me, she gasped and threw her perfumed arms around my neck, clinging to me in a fair impression of a hug.

"Josef! Oh, thank God you're alright!"

I didn't move, even when she drew back to wipe her lipstick from my cheek. "I heard about what happened," she said. "It's so awful. I was so worried about you."

I raised an eyebrow. "That's the best you can do? Couldn't even squeeze out a tear? I wouldn't buy that on a good day, much less the night after I got staked by quite possibly the worst kidnappers in LA County."

"What?"

"You know, I think that might be what really bothers me — not what you did, but that you did such a bad job of it. That hurts, Cora. Gets me right here." I put my fist to my chest. "Feels kind of like, I don't know, a stake through my fucking heart when I was trying to spend the day with two beautiful women."

She attempted a pout. "What are you talking about? Josef, I had no idea..."

"You know the really funny part? Those fools didn't just screw everything up, they also almost killed your one true love with those silver chains. Please tell me you didn't give them those. I mean, really. I know he's part of your super special French bloodline and all, but he's still three years old."

"No, I—"

"Luckily for you, Mick is more vicious than either of us realized. It's probably a good thing you didn't come along, or the Cleaner might've had to burn what was left of you too. You should have seen him, Cora. You made him a killer alright, but not the kind you wanted."

The pout disappeared. Coolly, she said, "I don't have to listen to this."

"They killed Janie."

"No! I told them..." For a moment she looked like she might actually be upset, but she quickly composed herself. She looked at me from beneath her eyelashes and gave me a slow smile, leaning against the door frame as she reached out to touch my collar.

"Come inside, Joey. Let's talk about this."

I laughed at her. "Save those moves for Mick, baby doll. They haven't worked on me since Prohibition."

Her smile vanished. She crossed her arms and looked down her nose at me. "Why did you come here?"

"You mean, am I here to exact my terrible revenge?" I grinned. "No. For one thing, I have no desire to get on your brother's bad side. For another, any pleasure I might take in snapping your gorgeous little neck is nothing compared to seeing the look on your face when I tell you that I know what you did, and I'm not going to do anything about it, because now you owe me. Ah — there, see? That's what I'm talking about. I came to tell you you've lost your touch, sweetheart. You used to have style. In the old days you would have made sure no one ever found our bodies. Desperation has made you sloppy. Sad."

Her mouth twitched and her dark eyes flashed, but she didn't lose her composure. Instead she gave me an icy smile. "Always so high and mighty, aren't you, Josef? So smug and sure of yourself. You've never known what it's like to fight for what you love, because you don't love anything."

"If that's love, then I'm good, thanks." I shook my head. "You don't even care, do you? How much you've fucked up — you don't even register it. You pitch a tantrum like a newborn, draw attention to us all, piss all over my friendship, waste a valuable human, and leave the mess for someone else to clean up — none of it matters, as long as you have your toy back." I glanced down the hall. "Where is he, by the way? Did you have to tie him to the bed with your nylons?"

She put an arm out to bar the doorway. "He's home. Where he belongs. With his wife."

I chuckled. "You can use that word all you want, honey, but it'll never make it real."

"Mick loves me. You're jealous because you can't understand what we have. You've never loved anyone like we love each other."

Calmly, I said, "You don't know anything about me."

Whatever she saw in my face, it made her back down a little. She lowered her voice and softened her tone. "I'm sorry you got tangled up in all this. It wasn't supposed to be this way. I wanted you and Mick to be friends, but I know you've always preferred to run alone. Now everything is back the way it should be. We'll all be happy now."

"Why don't you just cut the crap, Cora? We've had a lot of fun, you and me, but I never made the mistake of thinking you gave a shit about me. All you've done is prove me right. I told you this thing would end badly. Look at yourself. Look at what you've turned into."

Her eyes glittered with malice. "You told me not to fall in love with a human. But you didn't take your own advice, did you? And how did that work out for you?"

I let the thing that spiked through me pass without responding to it. No way was I going to let her get to me. When I was able, I said, "Where is Mick? I want him to look me in the eye before I go. I think I deserve that much."

She dropped the ice queen act and went for petulant princess instead. "Why are you doing this? Why are you trying to keep us apart? This is none of your business."

"You made it my business when you gave him to me."

"I never gave him to you! I was forced to let you take him! I never would have if I—"

"If you hadn't lost control of him. If you hadn't driven him so insane that he preferred death over life with you." I found my grin again. "And how's that working out for _you_?"

"Mick loves me."

"Which is why you had to hire someone to drag him from another woman's bed."

"Well, now that's taken care of, too, isn't it?"

"Is it?"

Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to reply, but a voice from down the hall interrupted her.

"Coraline? Everything OK?"

"Just fine, baby," she called without turning. "I'll be there in a minute."

Mick emerged from the hallway, wearing nothing but a pair of ratty old army trousers, clutching a large bottle and stumbling a little when he pushed his hair back from his face. I thought he would have smelled me by now, but as he came closer I saw why he hadn't — he was spectacularly drunk, to the point I was amazed he was still vertical, reeking of French absinthe and his eyes watery and out of focus. He came up behind Coraline and saw me standing there on the doorstep, and his nose twitched as he frowned.

"Oh. It's you."

Coraline slid an arm around his waist. "Josef came to see if you were alright, darling," she said. "I told him he had nothing to worry about. Isn't that right?"

Looking at him was like setting the needle back on the record three years. This was the human I had met on that first night: surly, saturated, lost. In the past two months he had almost managed to smother the torch he carried for Coraline, but now he let it flare up and consume him, this time to prevent others from getting burned.

He wouldn't meet my eyes, but he put his arm around Coraline, and when she kissed him he closed his eyes and pressed himself into her. When she let him go, he managed to look at me long enough to say, "Yeah. It is. It's better this way."

"Yes, I can see that," I said. "And I can smell it, too. Well, far be it from me to keep you from your wedded bliss. I just came to make sure you were here before I had all the stuff you left behind sent over. It's the least I can do for you."

He flinched, but Coraline said, "He doesn't need any of those things. He has everything he needs here."

I ignored her. I had Mick's eyes now, and I didn't let them go. "And would you like the guitar Janie gave you, too? Or you would you like me to throw it out with the rest of the things we cleaned up after she died trying to save your life?"

Mick grew paler. He looked away and took a sloppy swig from his bottle. Coraline glared daggers at me, but into Mick’s ear she purred, "Don't let him get to you, darling. He's just trying to drive us apart. He's jealous because you love me."

I laughed, loud enough to make Mick flinch again. "Oh, man. Hey, look, Mick, if you think I'm here to beg you to come back with me, you can stop flattering yourself. I am overjoyed to get your worthless ass out of my house once and for all. I just wanted to see if you could look me in the face before I told you both to go to hell."

Mick looked at the floor. His hair hung in his face, hiding his eyes. Coraline kissed his temple, smiling against his ear. I watched them both, and whatever amusement I felt turned to disgust. I could feel myself losing my cool — it was time to go.

"You two deserve each other," I said. "Enjoy eternity."

Before I got a half dozen steps across the yard, I heard Mick call after me. "Josef, wait." Coraline followed him from the house, but he stumbled past her and slurred out, "Josef, stop, I—"

I turned. "Yes?"

He looked down at the bottle clutched in his fist and groped for something coherent. Finally he managed, "Will... will you tell Janie..."

"No," I said cheerfully. "I won't tell Janie anything. I am so finished getting in between vampire lovers. It's cramping my style."

Mick looked up at me, bleary and wretched. "I just wanted all this to stop."

I patted his cheek. "Hey, slugger, don't worry about it." Coraline appeared behind him, sliding her arms around his chest, and I smiled. "Looks like you got what you wanted."

"Josef, I'm sorry!"

The volume of his shout startled us both. His face had gone sallow, and his eyes swam; I might have felt sorry for him if I hadn't been so pissed off. "I don't... What you did means a lot to me, you know that, right?"

"No, Mick, I can't say that I do."

"Why are you making this so hard for me?"

"Why should I make it easy? I should have left you in that alley to wallow in your own filth until the sun killed you. Instead I wasted my time on you, my money, my... Well, you know what they say. No good deed goes unpunished. I'm sure it's a big comfort to Janie that she took four rounds to the gut so that you could go back to the woman responsible for it. But hey, what do you care? I told you not to get attached to humans. Look where it got you."

"He's just trying to hurt you," Coraline said. "He never gave a damn about you. Do you think he was ever your friend? Do you think he ever cared about you?"

"Yes," Mick whispered.

"He hated you when you first met. You hated him too, remember? He wanted to let you die. You've always been a joke to him. He doesn't know you like I do. Nobody does. Nobody ever will."

"Ah," I said. "C'est l'amour. What a prize you've won, Mick."

"She loves me."

"Of course I do, sweetheart," Coraline crooned. "I've never loved anyone like I love you. That's why you came back to me, because you know what we have is so special." She was in high gear now; it was like I wasn't even there. Mick closed his eyes and shivered; she stroked his face, and licked a stray drop of absinthe from his mouth. It was so nauseating that I had to be impressed. "Of course you chose me," she murmured. "I gave you everything. What did he give you?" She spoke into his ear. "Do you want to go through eternity as his little sidekick? Is that what you want? Nothing but Josef's Friend, forever, his object of ridicule?"

"No," Mick said. "It wasn't like that." He met my eyes desperately. "Was it?"

Quietly I said, "What do you think, Mick?"

He took a step toward me, but Coraline held him back. "No, Mick. Don't listen to him. If you go back to him now, you'll be nothing. With me..." She ran her palm down his belly until he shuddered. "I made you what you are," she said against his mouth. "You were nothing before I gave you my blood. You promised me, Mick. Do you remember that? You promised me, on our wedding night, you said..."

"I will love you forever."

"Forever," she smiled. "That's what we are. I'll never stop, Mick. I'll never stop loving you. No matter what you do, no matter where you go. You know we're meant to be together."

"Stop it!" Mick wrenched himself free, the bottle falling to the grass, and grabbed two handfuls of his hair. "Stop messing with my head! I can't fucking take this anymore! Why do you have to be like this? Why does it have to be all or nothing with you?"

"Because I love you!"

"This isn't love! This is — it —" He put a hand to his mouth. "Oh, God, I think I'm gonna be sick."

Coraline reached for him. "Go away, Josef," she snapped. "Can't you see you're upsetting him?"

"She thinks you can't live without her, Mick," I said. "It's up to you to decide if she's right."

"You don't know anything about us. If he leaves again, he'll come back again. I will always get him back. I don't care how many times I have to go through you or my brother or anyone else. I'll kill every human you know, just like I killed that little blonde bitch."

I took a dangerous step forward. "If you think I'll let you get that close a second time, you overestimate my good nature. I've enjoyed running with you, Cora, and I do love how the tables have turned, but don't think I wouldn't take immense pleasure in ripping your fucking spine out."

She laughed. "You _did_ care about that girl, didn't you? But not enough to keep her safe, hm? You let her die, just like that other one—"

I squeezed off her words and her breath with a hand around her throat. My eyes paled; I could hear myself growling.

"Don't you ever say her name."

She bared her fangs and hissed at me; I jerked her to me and drew back a fist.

Mick leaped forward and knocked me off my feet. I fell on the grass and he squatted over me, snarling through his fangs, and leaned in close to sniff my throat. His eyes were both pale and bloodshot, a dangerous combination; his breath blew hot on my face, smelling like absinthe and blood. I looked into those mad eyes and spoke calmly.

"Do you think I'm going to let you hurt me, Mick?"

He stared down at me, and then his rage cracked and he slumped over me, squeezing his eyes shut. "I can't leave her," he said. "I can't."

"Then I should have let you die when I had the chance."

Coraline put a hand on his shoulder. "You see? He doesn't—"

"Don't touch me!" Mick screamed. "Leave me alone!"

"Make your choice, Mick," I said. "But make it now, because if you don't get off me in the next five seconds I'm afraid I'm going to lose my patience."

He huffed and puffed, struggling to contain himself, and then he leaped off of me and stumbled away. I got to my feet, but before I could smooth down my wrinkled shirt, Coraline was on me.

"I won't let you take him again. I don't care what anyone says. He's mine."

"Get off him," Mick said. When she didn't budge, he grabbed her. "Get off him!"

She snarled and pushed him away. He hit the ground and came up growling, baring his fangs as he lunged at her. He grasped her by the throat and lifted her until her satin pumps dangled above the grass, ready to fling her across the yard.

"Mick, wait—"

He dropped her to scream at me. "Stop telling me what to do! I can take care of myself!"

Coraline reached for him, and I shoved her back — Mick, who a second ago had been about to wring her neck, turned on me and seized me by the shirt. He hissed into my face, but then broke off in a choked sound, and a tear rolled down his cheek. He pulled me close and bared his teeth, eyes flashing, and drew in breath for another snarl.

A thick whump behind him jolted us both. I was abruptly let go; Mick's eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed in a heap at my feet. In his place stood Janie, an uprooted garden light in her hand, the metal now bent on one side. She looked down at Mick's inert form and blew a strand of hair from her face.

"Men."

"I told you to stay in the car," I said.

"Do you know how much noise he was making?" She dropped the lamp and pushed up her sleeves. "Come on, help me pick him up."

Coraline gaped at her, but her surprise lasted only a second. Before either of us could touch Mick, she gave a savage roar, seized Janie with both hands, and bore her all the way back across the yard to slam her into the front glass wall. It shattered into a thousand shards and Janie fell into the living room, rolling to her back where she lay still. Coraline hauled her up by the throat and pinned her against the beam, white-eyed with fury, and with one hand she crushed every bone in Janie's neck and kept on squeezing. Janie's eyes rolled back and her knees gave way; she sagged against the beam, blood running from her mouth.

Before I could say a word, another voice rang out behind us.

"Coraline."

She flinched, but she didn't loosen her grip.

"Coraline," Lance repeated. "Drop the newborn."

She turned to look at him where he stood in the shattered glass. Her face twisted in anger, but she let go of Janie and let her slump to the floor.

I bent down beside her. She opened her eyes; the cuts on her face and the bruises around her neck started to fade, but her crushed larynx would take a little longer to heal. She looked up at me weakly and tried to smile. I shook my head at her, but I was smiling too.

Meanwhile, the sibling showdown had begun behind us. "Stay out of this, Lance," Coraline said. "What business is it of yours?"

"I believe we have already discussed that, sister. I see your behavior has not improved."

"I waited until he was ready, just like you said. And then I took back what belongs to me."

"I told you that I would determine when he was ready, or if he ever would be. But instead, you once again disregarded my instructions — and my warnings — and did as you pleased without consideration of the consequences you knew would be inevitable."

Coraline's eyes cooled and her fangs disappeared. "Lance, please—"

"Don't fret, my dear. I'm not taking you to him. But the fact remains that you have once again put your family in danger with your recklessness."

"I would never have let those men hurt Mick."

Lance raised an eyebrow. "I said your family, not your pets. Do you think I care about that boy? You acted openly and publicly without our permission, risking exposure of yourself and others."

"They called the Cleaner," she said. "It's all taken care of."

"I know. That's the only reason you haven't already been dealt with." He turned to me. "My sister won't be bothering you again, Mr. Kostan. She and I are returning to France for a while."

"No!" Coraline cried.

"My sister needs to clear her head and refocus her priorities. She could use some time away from things. France has always agreed with her — I'm sure she'll be back to her old self in no time."

"Fantastic," I muttered.

Coraline took her brother by the arm. "I can't! I can't go now! Mick just came back to me, I can't leave him like this!"

Lance looked pained. "Coraline, please, you're embarrassing yourself. At least attempt to retain some dignity." Seeing her face, he softened a little. "You've always loved Paris this time of year. Won't it be nice to see the old places again? I promise you, once we get there you'll forget all about this little affair. You'll have a score of French boys to replace him."

His tone was kind, but it left no room for discussion. Coraline knew it as well as I did. She turned a venomous look on me.

"You. This is all your fault. I swear—"

"You will not meddle with him in any way again," Lance said. "You have a choice, sister. You can come with me tonight and take advantage of my hospitality, or I can walk into your yard and tear your pretty toy into as many pieces as I can throw back through the front door." He peered at her until his words sank in. "Maybe one day, a few decades from now, he might be worth joining our family. Until then, you will stay away from him until you've come to your senses, or I will remove him from the equation for you right now."

Coraline trembled with thwarted rage. I give her credit, though — once she realized she had no choice, she mastered herself flawlessly. She let go of Lance's arm and drew up to her full height; she smoothed her red satin gown and tucked her hair behind one ear, aloof and serene once again.

She glanced at Janie, who had recovered enough to pull herself to her feet. They had been friends for most of Janie's short life; now Coraline looked down at her the way she might look at a dog that had chewed on her favorite slippers. She walked across the room, her pumps crunching in the glass; Janie took a step back, but she kept her chin up. Coraline touched her face and smiled sweetly.

"Enjoy him while you can," she said. "You might be a vampire now, but to him you'll always be just another freshie whore. When he gets tired of you, he'll come back to me." She smiled. "Again."

Janie opened her mouth, but I grabbed her arm. Lance nodded approvingly.

"I don't know if you're brave or stupid, child. Look after her, Mr. Kostan. She may make a decent vampire one day."

"If she doesn't get herself killed," I said.

Lance clapped his hands together. "Well! Another fine evening. And now it's time for the two of you to go, I think. My sister will want to pack her things for our trip, and you will want to get your friend off the front lawn before he wakes up and changes his mind."

Coraline walked over to the bar, where she lit a cigarette in an ebony holder. The smoke curled around her hair as she smiled at me. "Go ahead," she said. "Good luck trying to make him forget me."

Janie tensed in my grip, but I held her where she stood. "Come on, kiddo," I said. "You got what you wanted. Time to go."

We made our way through the broken glass to the open door. As I crossed the front step, I heard Coraline's voice behind us.

"You know this isn't over, Josef."

I didn't look back, but I had to smile. "I know, Cora."

The garden lights went out as we reached the front lawn, and my smile widened. She wasn't going to make it any easier on us. We groped around in the dark until Janie stumbled over Mick, quite literally; he snored in the grass, a lump of pale skin and absinthe fumes. He was going to feel like all the circles of hell when he woke up. I couldn't wait. Janie stooped to hoist him up, but with her day-old reflexes she was just as likely to throw him onto the roof, so I moved her aside and once again found myself hauling Mick's unconscious body over my shoulder. I was just glad I'd worn something old this time.

Janie had insisted we drive her Karmann Ghia; I had humored her in the hopes that she might actually stay put in her own car. Fat chance. We stuffed Mick in the back, only banging him up a little, and as I started the engine I took a final look back through the glass walls of Coraline's house. The fire crackled in the hearth; Billie Holiday filtered down through the February air. I sighed and reached for the gear shift, and Janie put her hand over mine and smiled.

"You did a good thing tonight, Josef," she said. "Mick is lucky to have you."

I shifted the car into reverse and backed out onto the empty street.

"That's what they keep telling me," I said.


	10. No Line

I can't decide which was more amusing: the look on Doris' face when Janie strutted through my front door fresh from her first vampire fight, hair askew, face dirty, sleek outfit ripped and dusty; or the look on Trudy's when I followed Janie inside, carrying a half-naked and unconscious Mick slung over my shoulder. Both of them gasped when they saw him.

"What happened?" Doris cried.

"Jane got her Tarzan," I said. "Boy gets to carry him."

We didn't slow our pace; the girls fell in behind us and followed us down the hall, Doris fussing over Janie and Trudy staring at Mick's curls bouncing against my back.

"Is he OK?"

"He's drunk," I said.

"Oh dear," muttered Doris. She edged back and put a little extra space between herself and us.

I carried Mick into one of the guest bathrooms, a smaller one without carpet or marble. Without further comment I dumped him into the bathtub and turned on the cold water; meanwhile, Doris and Janie moved around the room gathering every towel, hand cloth, and loose knick-knack to stuff into the cabinet by the door. Trudy watched all the action, bewildered.

"Wait, I don't get it. Is he sick?"

"He's drunk, Tru," Doris said. When that got no response, she added, "Have you ever seen a vampire throw up?"

"Oh, ew." Trudy shrank behind the cabinet door and peered around it at Mick.

"You two should go," I said. "We can handle this."

"Are you sure you're alright?" Doris said.

Janie brushed a stray hair back from her face and smiled. "Oh, trust me, I am _fine_."

"Endorphins," I grinned. "Even better for vamps." I wiped my hands on my shirt and pulled a twenty from my wallet. "Here — go to Eddie's. You remember the password? Get a case of O positive and as many bags of ice as you can carry. Use the rest to get something to eat. You two must be starving."

"We'll be back in a flash," Doris said. She left, pulling Trudy along behind her, who kept looking back over her shoulder at Mick as if she expected him to explode at any moment.

When they were gone, Janie went to the sink and splashed her face with cold water. She picked up a towel and scrubbed her face clean, then looked at the rusty streaks staining the cloth.

"You sure you're up for this?" I said.

She raised an eyebrow. "I was just about to ask you the same thing."

"I can handle this by myself. You need to rest. Cora has weakened you."

"Later." She dropped the towel and put her hands on her hips. "How's he doing?"

I knew arguing with her would be a waste of breath, so I let her energy burst run its course and turned my attention back to Mick. The tub had a large enough lip for his head, but it was a bit short for the rest of him, and his bare feet stuck up rather comically at the other end. Together we maneuvered him until his knees bent and he was tucked in as well as we could manage. I turned the water off when it lapped at his navel; no sense filling it higher, as it would just end up on the floor. This was going to be messy enough already.

Janie bent to remove her shoes and socks, then took down her ponytail and tied it up again neat and smooth. She looked at my wrinkled shirt. "If you're going to do this," she said, "You might want to change."

"Good point." My trousers were smudged with grass stains and snagged by broken glass; they could be sacrificed. My wingtips, not so much. I took them off, and my socks too, and then my shirt for good measure. Janie took everything into the hall while I closed the towel cabinet and checked the room one last time. Everything seemed secure, so when she returned, I knelt beside the bathtub, scooped up some cold water, and threw it in Mick's face.

The first splash had no effect; the second made him jerk and groan. I followed the third with an immensely satisfying slap across his cheek.

"Wake up, sunshine," I said. "Let's get this over with."

I kept flicking cold water in his face until he began to cough and splutter. His heels squeaked against the tub as he tried to scoot away from me, and then he clutched his head with both hands and curled in on himself with a thick noise of misery. He might have gone a few more hours at Coraline's before passing out, but getting bushwhacked by Janie had brought his hangover on full force. It wasn't going to be pretty. I pushed his head back and forced him to look at me.

"Sit up, Mick," I said. "You're about to get very sick."

His eyes opened; they were bloodshot and jaundiced, and they blinked a few times until they focused on me in watery recognition.

"Josef—"

He tried to sit up, and only succeeded in splashing water all over us both. He saw Janie then, standing behind me, and looked pained; he started to say something, but after one syllable his face went ashen, and he gripped the tub as he began to shake.

"Oh God," he gasped.

"Get back," I said to Janie.

She flattened herself against the wall; I barely had time to jump out of the line of fire before Mick lurched forward, retched, and vomited a fantastic torrent of blood, bile, and absinthe across the bathroom floor.

"Sweet Lord!" cried Janie.

"Now that is impressive," I said.

Mick looked up at me pleadingly, then hunched over and launched a second volley. It was amazingly disgusting; he must have been drinking nonstop since he left my place. (Who could blame him?) He slipped and fell forward, coughing; but when Janie tried to help him, he twisted away.

"Get her out of here!"

"Mick, it's OK, I'm—"

"Go away! Make her go away!"

"Give him a minute," I said. "There's Alka-Seltzer in the kitchen — put two in some hot water, and get a towel. Oh, and Janie?" I gestured at my face; she put a hand to her cheek, and her fingers came away wet with red droplets.

"Oh, ugh!" she cried. "Yeah, OK."

Chuckling, I turned back to Mick. He had curled into himself, shivering in the water; I crouched behind his head and drew his hair back from his forehead. "Hang in there, slugger," I said. "It'll pass in a minute."

"It hurts."

"I know. Didn't I tell you not to get drunk?"

"I didn't think — that —" A third convulsion hit him; I held his hair with one hand and my nose with the other until he slumped back against me, exhausted.

"Well, you never do anything halfway," I said.

"I'm gonna die," he gasped.

"Nah, it just feels that way. Janie'll be back in a minute, and she'll get you all fixed up."

"No. I don't want her to see me like this."

"It's a little late for that. Besides, you're not the first vamp she's ever seen upchuck before."

"Yeah, but— but—" He broke free of me for a fourth round, but his belly was finally empty, and after a few heaves he put his cheek on the lip of the tub and lay there, wheezing. Eventually he opened his eyes.

"Where's Coraline? Did she bring me back here?"

I smiled. "Let's save that story for later."

At that moment Janie returned, bearing a fizzing cup in one hand and a wet towel in the other. Mick, no longer in any condition to protest, had no choice but to let her take care of him. I stood aside to let her fuss — her bedside manner was certainly more effective than mine. She held Mick's head and fed him a few sips of seltzer. He opened his bloodshot eyes and looked up at her pitifully.

"My head hurts."

"Sh," she said quickly, ignoring my grin. "Keep still."

I heard Doris and Trudy coming down the hall, but I didn't have time to warn them before they reached the bathroom door and stopped at the threshold, each carrying several bags of ice. Their jaws dropped at the noxious crimson lake on the floor, spreading to the toes of their pumps.

"Great day in the morning," Trudy said.

"Ah, you're back." I stepped around the mess and took the bags from Trudy's hands while she stared. Doris followed me back to the tub, and together we poured the ice on top of Mick's shivering body. He flinched at the noise, but he barely knew we were there; now that his tortured stomach had surrendered its contents, he succumbed to his headache and began to drift off as the ice rose around him. Janie stood and wiped her hands on her pedal pushers, watching him; when all the ice was tucked securely around him and he began to snore, she turned to us.

"You guys go eat. I'll clean this up. No — don't argue. It's something I need to do. OK?"

"Come on, ladies," I said. "Let's leave Florence Nightingale with her patient. This smell is going to put you off your dinner."

We left Janie to her self-imposed penance and returned to the kitchen. The girls had picked up Chinese takeout; I washed my hands and sat with them at the dining room table while they dug into a spread of chop suey and Coca-Cola.

Over her chopsticks Trudy asked me, "Will he be OK?"

"Mick? Sure. He just needs to sleep it off. The only lasting effect is the embarrassment."

Doris took a careful sip from her Coke bottle. "So, then... Is everything else alright?"

I smiled. "Coraline is no longer a problem. No, no, I didn't kill her — though the thought did cross my mind. Let's just say she's out of town for a while."

"So she won't be coming for Mick again? Or Janie?"

"Not any time soon. Could be a year, could be a hundred years. Who knows?"

"Well, thank God for that." Doris ate her supper for a few minutes, thinking; then she turned to me and said, "So what happens now? What about Janie?"

"What about me?"

We turned to see her standing in the hallway, hair mussed and clothes rumpled, blood on her knees and her arms clutching a garbage bag stuffed with filthy towels. Her hands were stained red, but her face was ghostly white; she swayed on her feet, exhausted.

"Give me that," I said. I got up to take the bag from her and pointed to the kitchen. "Get a bottle out of that case and drink it. Now. And then drink another one. You need to eat, and then you need to sleep. I mean it." I glanced at her. "Though I'd recommend a shower in there somewhere, too."

"Ass." I stood there until she went into the kitchen, and then I took the bag downstairs to the incinerator to get rid of it before my own dinner returned to join the party.

As I watched the towels burn, I thought about what Doris had said. Janie had some decisions to make, and one of them would have to be made soon. When a vampire is turned, she has two choices: she can go on like nothing's changed for a few decades until age fails to set in; or she can "die" then and there and start fresh with a new identity. Due to the circumstances of her turning and her place in vampire society, Janie could easily do either; but she would have to choose soon, before the story of her conversion became common knowledge. If it wasn't already, of course. Vampires love gossip.

When I got back upstairs, Janie was gone, but two empty bottles sat beside the kitchen sink; by the time Doris and Trudy had cleaned up the remains of their dinner, she emerged from her room in a white satin robe, smelling of steam and toweling her hair. After two bottles of blood she looked much better, but I could see how tired she was. Being throttled by your lover's crazed ex after one day of vampire life would drain any newborn's strength.

"You should go to bed," I told her. "It'll be dawn in an hour or two anyway."

"I am. I'm just going to check on Mick first."

I brought her another bottle from the case, grinning. "You got him all to yourself now. Congratulations."

She was unfazed. "You can stop pretending like you don't care about him. I think you proved the opposite pretty clearly just now."

"If you say so."

"Mm-hm." She took the bottle without further comment and draped the towel over her shoulder. Her hair hung in wet strings around her face; I twirled a strand around one finger.

"You can sleep with me today if you need to."

"I think I need to be alone. At least for a little while. I need to think."

"OK." I kissed her on the forehead. "You did good tonight, kiddo. You should be proud."

"I am, Josef," she said. "I'm proud of you."

I cleared my throat. "Well, I'm off to bed. Doris, Trudy, you two are welcome to stay another day. Sleep wherever you like."

"I take it you won't be joining us?" Doris said.

"Maybe tomorrow. Or as soon as the smell of blood doesn't make me think of projectile vomiting."

"That's so romantic."

"Good night, ladies."

"Good night, Josef."

By the time I grabbed a shower and climbed into my freezer, I was tired enough to stop thinking about Mick, and Janie, and Coraline, and Lance, and the girls, and pretty much everything else. I stretched out in the darkness, feeling my skin crackle with ice crystals, and fell into a wonderfully sound sleep — but after only a few hours I was awake again. I lay on my back, restless, trying to ignore the rest of the house and shut back down again. But it was no use. Finally I sighed and pushed open the freezer lid to reach for my robe. Just a quick look-see to make sure everything was OK, just so I could get back to sleep. Nobody else would know.

I tied my robe around me and walked barefoot into the living room, careful not to make a sound. The clock over the mantle read 12:15. The curtains were drawn against the daylight; on the sofa lay Doris and Trudy, curled up together, fast asleep. I smiled as I walked past them, down the hall to the bathroom where Mick slept, and eased the door open just enough to peek inside.

The bathtub was empty; only a few half-melted ice cubes clung to the bottom. Mick's trousers lay folded over the side, dripping onto the tile floor. Wet footprints led to where I stood.

I looked around in alarm, then hurried down the hall to Mick's bedroom. The curtains were drawn there too, and the door to the dressing room stood ajar. Inside, on the vanity beside the freezer, sat a bottle of O-pos and two glasses. My fleeting worry vanished, and I had to chuckle to myself. Just to make sure, I hoisted up the lid and peered into the freezer.

Mick and Janie lay there, entwined in each other, both naked and both sound asleep. Mick's face was turned in toward Janie's hair, his arms around her waist as if anchoring himself to her; Janie rested her cheek on his shoulder, one arm across his chest, shielding him with her body. Neither of them so much as batted an eyelash when I opened the lid; they were as pale as the linen beneath them, their heartbeats slowed almost to nil, deep in the profound restorative sleep that only a vampire can achieve, and only when that vampire feels completely safe.

I looked down at them, the cold vapor curling up around me, and then I smiled. I closed the freezer and returned to my room as silently as I had come, leaving my robe on a chair before climbing back into bed. I was asleep before my freezer lid closed.

~

I woke up to the sound of Doris singing. It was almost six, later than my usual rising time; I got dressed and wandered into the kitchen to find Doris at the sink, singing to herself as she washed out all the bottles and cups that had accumulated over the past few days. She wore a pair of red pedal-pushers and a man's white shirt rolled up to the elbows, her dark hair tied back with a kerchief; as she set each cup to dry on the rack she would reach for a half-filled glass of Chardonnay, sneaking a sip between verses.

 _What makes me treat you the way that I do?_  
_Gee baby, ain't I good to you_  
_There's nothin in this world too good for a boy so sweet and true_  
_Gee baby, ain't I good to you_

I leaned against the fridge and watched her, enjoying her soft, slightly off-tune voice. She was such an earnest little thing — it was one of the reasons she tasted so good. Eventually she reached for a dish towel and caught sight of me, and she gasped and put a hand to her chest.

"I hate it when you do that."

"Do what?" I grinned. "You don't have to clean up, you know. I have someone for that."

"I know. I just wanted to do something. I wanted to feel like I helped a little."

I walked over and kissed her on the forehead. "You helped a lot, doll." I stole a sip of her Chardonnay, then glanced around. "Where's Trudy?"

"She had to go take care of some things. I think she needed some time to clear her head."

"Understandable. That was a hell of an initiation for a first-time freshie. We're lucky she didn't lose her marbles."

"I don't know," Doris said. "I think she's into it. I think this is going to be her scene from now on."

"You always did know how to pick them."

She winked at me. "And don't you forget it." She looked across the bar into the living room, and her grin softened a little. "Janie's been really quiet since she got up. Maybe you should talk to her."

"Mick?"

"Still sleeping."

I patted her hand and left her to her work; she was singing to herself again before I left the kitchen. In the living room all the curtains had been tied back to let in the last few streaks of sunset; the evening star hung over the Pacific, lit by the near-full moon. In a chair drawn up beside the open terrace doors sat Janie, dressed in dungarees and a white peasant blouse, her knees drawn up to her chest and an empty glass on the floor at her side. I sat down on the carpet next to her and looked out at the ocean with her. The February air was still chilly, but I could smell spring on its edges. Spring has always been my favorite season — the season of change. Everything gets a new start.

"I want to buy a house," Janie said.

I looked at her. "...OK?"

"I've barely touched my trust fund; I know I have the money. I'm not going anywhere. I'm not changing my name. I'm not going to let anyone think she beat me, because she didn't. I'm still Janie Silver. I'm going to buy a new house, and then I'm going to throw myself a party." She turned to look at me. "What do you think about that?"

"I think I know a real estate agent who works nights."

She smiled.

We sat there for a while, watching the stars come out, until eventually I got up to turn on the living room lights. That seemed to energize Janie; she disappeared down the hall and returned with her case of papers, which she spread across the dining room table before sitting down with a refilled glass and a slide rule from my desk. Doris sat down with her, and soon they were busy discussing ideas and jotting down notes. I went out onto the terrace to enjoy the fresh air, watching the lights come on one by one along the pier. It was going to be a beautiful night.

Another half hour or so passed before I heard Mick stumble out of his frozen slumber. A few minutes later he came trudging down the hall, looking relatively orderly in clean chinos and a white undershirt, scratching his hair and squinting against the light. His color was better, and he no longer smelled like the Moulin Rouge on a Sunday morning, but it was clear he was not yet firing all pistons. I came in from the terrace as he pulled out a bar stool and slumped onto it, slouching over the counter, and dropped his head in his hands.

"Well, you look slightly less terrible," I said. "Sleep well?"

He made an unintelligible noise between his fingers. Janie had looked up when he came in; she glanced from Mick to me and back again, and then dropped her eyes back to her work. I came around the bar and took out two coffee mugs to fill with warm O positive from the percolator.

"Hungry?" I said. "Or maybe a little hair of the green fairy that bit you?"

"Ugggh, God," Mick groaned. "I'm never drinking that shit again."

"I've heard that before. You do need to eat, though. Here."

He took the mug I handed him and wrapped his palms around it, but he didn't drink it; instead he peered down into it, his hair in his face, his feet tapping against the stool legs. I poured myself a nice warm breakfast and watched him stew for a minute before I spoke again.

"How much do you remember?"

He shrugged. "Some of it. Things. I don't know."

"Do you remember trying to kill me? Because that was a highlight for me, personally."

I expected a sheepish look or some more mumbled incoherence, but instead Mick abruptly pushed the mug away and stood up, sloshing blood on the bar, and spread his hands in surrender.

"You know what? Go ahead. Come on, Josef. Let me have it. Tell me you were right and I was wrong. Tell me how much I owe you for saving my ass twice, and make sure you remind me again how much better you are than me. Or maybe you'd rather just beat the shit out of me? That seems to be a common pastime lately. But whatever you're gonna do, do it now, alright? Don't fuck around with me all night making your little jokes because God forbid you ever let anyone know how you actually feel about anything. Come on, I deserve it. Give me both barrels so I can pack my stuff and get out of here. I'm waiting."

He stood there, hands open, scowling, staring me down. There was a shuffling sound behind him, and from the corner of my eye I saw Janie make a discreet exit, pulling Doris along with her. I waited until they were gone, and then I took a sip of my drink.

"Self pity — never attractive," I said.

Mick pointed a finger at me. "Coraline was right. This whole thing was just a big joke to you. But it's not a joke to me, Josef. It's my life. OK? It's my _life_ , and it was taken away from me, and everybody expects me to be an expert at something I never wanted to be, and people are dead because of me. Do you have any idea what that's like? I never wanted this! This isn't what I was supposed to be!" He shoved his hair back with both hands and sighed.

"Feel better?" I said. "Holding your anger in isn't healthy, you know. You should consider journaling. 'Dear Diary: Life is so cruel. I'm going to be young and beautiful forever with an endless supply of willing sexual partners who double as appetizers.'"

"Is that all life is to you? Nothing that lasts, just sex and partying?"

"Mick, I'm 350 years old. The only thing that's lasted all this time _is_ sex and partying."

His hands dropped to his sides, and something seemed to ebb out of him. He felt for the bar stool and sat back down heavily. "You really don't care about anything."

I finished my drink, turning the glass all the way up to get the last drop, then set it on the bar and wiped my mouth. "Let me ask you something, Mick," I said. "How did you get back here from Coraline's house last night?"

He started to say something, then stopped.

"Think hard," I said.

I could see him struggling to piece together his memories of the previous night. I didn't say anything else, just waited, watching the wheels turn behind his eyes until finally his mouth opened and he looked up at me, wide-eyed.

"You came back for me," he said. "You told me to choose between her and you. And I did, but... but then I couldn't, so you..."

"I brought you home."

He stared at me.

"Now why do you suppose I did that?" I leaned over to refill my glass. "Hm. It's a mystery."

Mick rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. He reached for his mug and sniffed it, then drained it in a single gulp. He grimaced as the blood hit his empty stomach, then shook his head.

"I can't keep going like this, Josef. I can't just be passed from her to you. I still need your help, but — I need to know we're even now. I'll move out, I'll get a job, whatever, but.... Just tell me Coraline was wrong, Josef. Tell me we're in this together."

There were a lot of things I could have said to him at that moment, and for a minute, I actually considered a few of them. But then I came to my senses and let them all pass. Instead I reached for the percolator and leaned over to refill his empty cup.

"Drink your breakfast," I said. "And give me five bucks for the next case before Friday."

Mick looked at me for a long time, and then he brought the mug to his lips and smiled.

"Okay."

I grabbed a bar towel and tossed it in his direction. "And clean up that mess. What is this, a frat house? Do I look like your den mother?" I refilled my glass again, this time with brandy, and after the first sip I shook my head. "Life with you isn't boring, Mick, I'll give you that. Loud and messy, yes, but not boring."

"Admit it — you like having me around. You get off on being the older wiser vampire."

"No. The handsome and more stylish vampire, maybe."

"Chicks dig musicians, you know."

"That's what Mozart told me."

I winked and took the towel to toss in the laundry chute. Mick put a hand on my arm and looked up at me, one brown curl hanging over his eye.

"Friends?"

"I don't have any friends," I said. "I don't care about anyone but myself."

He quirked an eyebrow. "You held my hair while I puked. Where I come from that's the definition of friendship."

"OK, I'll give you that one."

He laughed, and from the hallway came Janie's voice: "Are you two gonna kiss and make up or what? Cause if you're gonna fight, I need to move my stuff off the table."

"Get in here," I called. "Neither of those things is going to happen, I assure you."

She and Doris returned somewhat cautiously, as if they expected to find us at each other's throats. When Mick saw her, he swiveled on the bar stool to face her and ran a hand through his hair.

"Janie, we need to talk. I know I've been a mess—"

She cut him off. "Later. I can't handle deep thoughts right now. Neither one of us is in great shape, and I'm hungry, and I just spent ten minutes in a dark hallway with Doris. Pour me a drink."

Doris giggled.

The four of us gathered around the bar. I mixed some brandy with orange juice for Doris and poured fresh rounds of O-pos for the vamps. When Janie finished hers, she set down her cup.

"I should get back to work. I want to get all this stuff figured out as soon as possible so I can get out of your hair and you two can have your bachelor pad back."

"Well, if nobody minds," Doris said, "I'm going to fix myself something to eat. Call me presumptuous, but after the past few days, I have a feeling I'm going to need to keep my strength up."

Janie blushed; Mick bit his lower lip, and I laughed into my drink.

Doris scampered off into the kitchen, where she took out a bag of fruit she'd picked up at the Chinese place — tangerines, mandarins, star fruit, plums. She always remembered how much I loved plums. She started washing the fruit in the sink, while behind us Janie settled back to her calculations. I came around the bar and pulled out the stool next to Mick's; the two of us sat side by side and watched Doris make her breakfast, cutting the fruit into neat sections, arranging them carefully on a plate. She hummed as she worked, and after a minute or two she began to sing, softly under the fluorescent light as the scent of fruit filled the kitchen.

 _What makes me treat you the way that I do_  
_Gee baby, ain't I good to you_  
_Ain't nothin in this whole world too good for a boy that's good and true_  
_Gee baby, ain't I good to you_  
_Bought you a fur coat for Christmas_  
_Diamond ring_  
_Big Cadillac car and everything_  
_Love makes me treat you the way that I do_  
_Gee baby, ain't I good to you?_


	11. Easy Living

In the weeks following Coraline's departure, my life returned to what had substituted for normal since I left for New York three and a half years prior. None of us talked much about what had happened at Coraline's — if Mick ever found out that it was Janie who had laid him out with a garden lamp to the back of the head, he never mentioned it to me. There was no reason to bring up Lance (as far as I knew, Mick had no idea he existed); I just told him Coraline had gone to France to think things over, and that he should take the opportunity to get on with his life. We both knew she wouldn't stay gone forever, but there was no sense obsessing over it; like I told Doris, it could be a year or ten years or two hundred years before we saw her again. Mick would be best able to handle her eventual return if he spent the interim becoming his own vampire on his own terms, apart from her influence or anyone else's.

For his part, Mick still wouldn't talk about the men he'd killed at Janie's, or the full vampire rage that had overtaken him that day, or his drunken relapse with Coraline, or the choice he had made that night. And that was just fine with me. I'd come perilously close to heart-to-heart chats way too many times since the day Mick St. John came stumbling into my life. I was ready to forget about this soap opera and move on.

After Janie announced her intention to buy a new house, I insisted she stay at my place until hers was ready. She agreed, but on one condition: she wanted a room of her own. In three chaotic days she had gone from a carefree independent socialite at the top of her game to a homeless newborn vampire bouncing between the beds of her not exactly paternal sire and a would-be lover still obsessed with his ex wife — not exactly an ideal transition. What she needed was space to herself and time to adjust to what had happened to her. I agreed, and I had a freezer delivered for her before the next sunrise. Mick, however, didn't seem as keen on the new arrangements.

Not that he talked to me about that either. I hadn't heard a thing about Mick and Janie's amorous explorations since I eavesdropped on them the day she was turned; neither of them had been very forthcoming since. I mean, sure, it was none of my business, but since when has that ever stopped me? Mick came from a generation that didn't kiss and tell, which I guess is honorable or whatever, but it makes for a really boring eternity. I knew they both had a lot on their minds, so as the days went by and the tension mounted, I kept an amused silence and waited to see which of them would come to me first. A few nights later, as I sat alone on the terrace, Janie came out and slumped onto the chair beside me, slouching over the drink in her hands. For a minute or two she watched the ocean with me, and then she sighed, and I had my answer.

"So…" she said. "You wouldn't happen to know if, um, there's anything going on with Mick, would you?"

"I think there's kind of a lot going on with Mick, kiddo."

"I realize that. It's just... He's been acting really weird."

I put a hand to my mouth. "Mick? Acting weird? Well, I never."

"Come on, Josef. You know what I mean. Ever since we brought him back from Coraline's, he's been avoiding me. He hardly speaks to me, he won't look at me — I mean, he hasn't even tried to—" Her glass was almost empty, and the blood flushed in her cheeks as she dropped her eyes.

"He's probably just embarrassed," I said. "Put yourself in his place. One night you're his first freshie, the next you're tucking him into bed after cleaning up his puke. Not exactly a stellar start to a relationship."

She jerked her head up. "Relationship? No, we're not—" Seeing my face, she scowled. "Jerk." She drained the rest of her cup and looked out at the water. "I don't have any claim on Mick, and I don't want one. Neither of us need that right now. I just want to make sure we're OK."

"Maybe fracturing his skull wasn't the best way to go about that."

"Ugh! Can't you ever be serious?"

"Look, sweetheart, you're not a human anymore. You're gonna have to learn some patience. This isn't some ordinary breakup Mick's trying to get over, you know. That whole deal was seriously bizarre, even by my standards — it's gonna take a while for him to get his head on straight. You need to take care of yourself before you try to fix Mick. OK? You're not responsible for him any more than he is for you. You get what I'm saying?"

"I guess. No, I do. You're right. I just..." The breeze blew her hair back from her face; she gazed out at the water and sighed. "I just feel like there's something that still needs to happen with us. Something's not finished yet."

"Mick still needs your help, even if he can't admit it yet."

"Just like I still need yours." She grinned. "We're both a mess without you, Josef. I bet you just love that."

"Oh, yeah, I always wanted to have two newborns trying to get around me so they can have sex with each other in my house." Something sad crossed her face, but I reached over to pat her thigh. "Don't sweat it, kiddo. It'll work itself out. Trust me." I looked out at the sea and brought my glass to my lips. "It'll be worth the wait."

Her mouth opened, but she closed it and swallowed. I grinned and sipped my drink.

Later, after she and Doris had gone out for the night, I was considering where to procure the evening's nourishment when I heard Mick shuffling around in the kitchen. He dug out his favorite bottle of bourbon and fixed himself a drink before slumping onto a bar stool, slouching over his glass as he sighed. I raised an eyebrow; my house was turning into a Degas painting. I chuckled as I went over to the bar and poured myself a drink from his bottle.

"Josef, can I ask you a question?"

"It's what I live for."

He glared at me, but then he dropped his gaze back into his drink. "I think Janie's mad at me."

"That wasn't really a question, but OK. What makes you think that?"

"I haven't talked to her much since, you know, since what happened the other night. I guess I probably should have."

"Yeah, you probably should have. But I understand why you didn't."

He sighed and scratched at his hair. "I'm just not ready for this right now. I can't handle it."

"What's to handle? Coraline's gone. Janie's here. Why make everything so complicated? Just enjoy yourself. Have some fun. You know, fun? You should try it some time." I eyed him over my drink. "She's not human anymore, you know. There's no way you can possibly kill her with sex now, unless your idea of foreplay involves fire and guillotines. Which, you know, to each his own."

He didn't respond to my teasing, just kept staring down into his drink. He was silent for a minute or two, and then he said quietly, "She was the only human I ever fed from without killing. When I was with Coraline, I killed people because I couldn't stop myself. At Janie's house I killed them because I wanted to."

"They were bad guys, Mick."

"I know that. But in between, when I was with her..." He shook his head. "And look what happened."

I shrugged. "So you've got some knots to untangle. That's par for the course when sex and food come from the same place. Just take it easy on the self-flagellation, OK? Listen to your instincts."

He smiled. "Thanks, Josef."

"Don't mention it." I grabbed the bottle to refill my glass. "No, seriously, don't. This advice thing is getting ridiculous. I have a reputation to uphold."

"Oh, don't worry," Mick said, "You definitely live up to it."

I paused in mid-pour. "Did you— did you just insult me?"

He tossed his hair back. "Maybe."

I reached over to refill his glass, then clinked mine against it. "Touché," I said, and we grinned at each other before draining our cups.

~

With humans to help out during the day and my office working on red tape at night, it was only a week or so before Janie signed off on her new house. She'd chosen a cozy Art Deco villa built in the twenties, halfway between Malibu and Santa Monica on a hill above the Pacific Coast Highway. The house was set back from the road on a good piece of property, shielded from prying eyes but not too hard to find; it had gardens in the front, an ocean view out back, plenty of guest rooms, and a swimming pool with a lighted deck. It wasn't an avant garde International Style bungalow like Coraline's, but it was bigger than her old cinder-block split level, and after a few renovations it would make a very satisfactory home for a new vampire. Janie fell head over heels the minute she saw it, and she signed the papers as soon as my people could get them to her.

We spent the next week or so helping her move in. I think having a project to focus on was good for everyone — as March blew in, it became easier to erase the weirdness of February. Janie spent hours on the phone every night making arrangements, placing orders, setting schedules; Doris spent hours every day running errands, picking up deliveries, and packing up her apartment. Janie had her freezer moved from my guest room to her master suite, and Mick and I carried over the few cases of belongings she had left while Doris leafed through catalogs and design magazines. Janie had invited her to move in as "resident freshie", a title they both found hilarious; I was still her main vamp, though, and I managed to steal a few minutes with her every couple nights for some clandestine refreshment. I knew what Mick and Janie were struggling against, and I wasn't about to deny myself just because they couldn't get their act together. I have needs, you know.

I tried to include Janie in a few of our encounters; as her sire I figured I had a responsibility, though from all her years on the other end of the fangs she pretty much knew the drill. But after a swallow or two, Janie would always break off and push Doris away. She wasn't ready yet, she said — she couldn't control herself and didn't have the patience to try. I didn't push the subject. I knew where her willpower was focused. Since she had moved out, Mick had grown more and more restless, drinking more bourbon and less blood, not sleeping as much, refusing to even discuss the option of freshies. Like Janie, he seemed to be waiting for something. Whatever it was, it would not happen until the new house was ready. Maybe that's why they both worked so hard to get it done.

Within two weeks Janie had the place up to vampire standards: air conditioning in every room; electrical outlets for freezers in the guest rooms and the closet of her master suite; all silver fixtures removed; blackout curtains in every window. Mick proved quite the handyman, climbing in with the night crews to twist things with wrenches and bang them with hammers — it probably did his guilty conscience good to help fix up the house meant to replace the one he had been instrumental in destroying, and it made a good outlet for all that pent-up energy.

Only a night or two after the Cleaners had done their work, people began to call or stop by to ask about Janie — vampires, freshies, human friends, all upset about what happened and eager to help if they could. Coraline had been universally admired, but Janie had been universally loved; now she was preparing to take over both her former role and the one left vacant by Coraline's absence. It brought me no small amount of glee to know that, through her careless tantrum, Coraline had created her own replacement. Ella and Pete dropped by soon after Janie moved in, bringing a bottle of freshly donated blood as a housewarming gift, and Janie told them to spread the word that she was ready to make things official. A few nights later, she sent out invitations for the night of March 12th, 1956, to a party given by and for Miss Jane M. Silver. The debutante was ready for her second coming out.

Mick was quiet all that evening. When it was time to go, I went to his room and found him standing in front of his mirror, trying to get his tie on straight. My eyebrows rose. A tie? Since when did he own a tie? He had put on his charcoal drainpipes, bright white socks, and those horrible brothel creepers; his white dress shirt looked freshly ironed, showing off those slate cufflinks that he knew brought out his eyes. With them he wore his good black suspenders with the silver-tone buttons, and a wallet chain sparkled on his hip — I was used to the rockabilly stuff by now, but the tie threw me for a loop. I watched him struggle with the knot, and I shook my head.

"Weren't you in the army?"

"I always had my buddies do this. Or a girl." He tugged at the knot a few more times, and then he jerked the tie off his neck. "Hell. What am I doing? I'm acting like a kid at a school dance."

"It's a big night. I wouldn't blame you for being a little nervous."

"I'm not nervous," he snapped. "I'm..." He sighed and dropped the tie on the bed. "I don't know."

"You missing Cora?"

"No. I mean, yeah, I think about her, but that's not it. Something's wrong, lately. I don't know. These past few days, I can't shake this feeling that... I feel like..."

"Like something isn't finished?"

He turned to look at me. "Yeah."

I grinned. "Look, Mick, things have been stressful for you lately, I get that, but all's well that ends well, you know? You've been living like a monk since you came back from Coraline's — no freshies, no sex, no fun, no nothing. Maybe it's time for you to stop doing penance and start letting your inner vampire have what he wants. Hm?"

As I walked closer I saw something on the foot of the bed, next to the discarded tie: a black fedora, still smelling of the box it came in, trimmed with a smart white ribbon. I smiled. He just kept on surprising me. I picked the hat up and ran my thumb down the brim.

"We're vampires, Mick," I said. "If there's something we need, we take it."

"What if I don't know what I need?"

"Of course you know. Vampires only have one need. It's been chasing you since the day you left Janie's bed and never got to go back." I brushed a spot of lint from his collar and held the fedora out to him. "You're hungry, Mick. That's all."

Mick said nothing, only stared at me. I plopped the hat on his slicked-down hair and patted his cheek. "Come on, we're gonna be late."

He looked at me for another heartbeat, and then he tucked the fedora into place and grinned.

~

We'd offered to show up early to help Janie set up, but she said no — she wanted us to arrive fashionably late so we could "get the full effect". We pulled up a little after ten, and the drive was already lined with cars all the way down to the street. Halfway up the walk we could hear music coming down to greet us. Every window in the house was lit; lights and lanterns hung from the trees, and a glow shone out from the back yard. Standing on the front step, we watched guests wander from the warm lights of the house to the cool shadows of the garden, finding private niches among the night flowers. Inside, laughter rose above the music. I could already smell the alcohol and blood.

"Not bad," I said to Mick as I rang the bell.

We were greeted by Doris, looking obscenely delicious in a red cocktail dress with a wrap to shield her shoulders from the chill. She had her hair piled up on her head, displaying her currently unmarked neck while long white gloves concealed our recent encounters. When she saw us, she beamed and took my hands to kiss me on each cheek; and then, for the first time, she greeted Mick the same way. She invited us in like a consummate hostess; but when she took my arm, her voice was much more personal.

"I was wondering when you'd get here."

"You know me. I like to make an entrance." I flicked one pearl drop earring and let my fingers trail down her neck, enjoying the flutter in her heartbeat.

"And what an entrance," she said. "Look at you." She drew a fingertip down my waistcoat. "You know I love this outfit."

Of course I knew; it was two pieces of my best wool three-piece, gray pinstripes set off with a white shirt and a purple tie knotted at my throat. My wingtips were freshly polished, and Sarah's garnet cuff links sparkled at my wrists, the color of fresh blood.

"Why do you think I wore it?" I said. "I had to come up with some way to lure you from your duties."

"You're terrible," she laughed, but her pulse beat a little faster.

She led us into the front hall, where people mixed and mingled in the relative quiet before joining the bustle in the main rooms. Before I could ask Doris where the lady of the house might be, I felt Mick go tense at my side.

"Josef, Mick," Janie said. "I'm so glad to see you!"

She came forward to greet us, a pale vision in a blue dress without straps or wrapper, her bare skin enhanced by a complete lack of adornment — no gloves, no bracelets, no ribbons, not even a necklace. Janie had a point to make tonight, and as usual she made it with both barrels. She had no marks to cover. From now on she would be the one leaving marks.

She smiled and gave me a hug, then turned to Mick. He gawked at her before managing, "You look...you look great."

"I was about to say the same to you." She touched the brim of his fedora. "I like it."

"Oh!" In his awe he had forgotten to take off his hat; he snatched it from his head and smoothed a curl behind his ear. "Sorry."

"I'll take that for you," Doris said. "Let me get you both a drink. Champagne?"

She took Mick's hat while he stared at Janie, and slipped off toward the bar. Janie watched her go, smiling, then turned to slip one arm through mine and one through Mick's. "Come on, let me show you around."

"We were just here two days ago," I said.

"I know," she grinned. "But I want to show off."

She led us through the main rooms, each one decorated with lights and flowers, each one crammed full of guests and sparkling with glasses and ashtrays. Vampires and humans sat on newly-imported furniture, sampling a vast array of hors d'oeuvres, champagne, liquor, little bowls filled with hashish tapers and thin-rolled cigarettes, and the first of twelve cases of donated blood Janie had ordered to supplement whatever refreshment the vampires might find among her human guests. 

Every freshie in LA was there, it seemed; I saw faces and throats I knew very well, others that looked vaguely familiar, and plenty of fidgeting virgins with their pulses pounding and their eyes darting around the room. Before her turning Janie had been their informal den mother, a sort of big sister to the professional donation set; now she stood poised to become their queen, caretaker of the warm red underground, madam of the burning house of love. If this party was any indication, no one who sought out her services or her patronage would go unsatisfied.

"You've outdone yourself, kiddo," I said. "I'm impressed."

She winked at me. "I think I made my point."

Doris returned with our drinks, and with her appeared a familiar face. Trudy smiled as she handed me a glass of champagne, looking beautiful in a mint green party dress with her hair pulled back behind a matching band.

"Well hello, stranger," I said. "I thought we'd scared you off for good."

"No, I just had to take care of some things. Unlike all you fancy vampire types, some of us actually work for a living. But I wouldn't miss this." She saw Mick standing beside me and gave him a quick up-and-down. "Mick. You're looking good. How's it going?"

It seemed Mick had recovered from the vision of Janie enough to realize he was at a party — just like at New Year's, the music and the crowds put him at ease, and he sipped his champagne and tilted his head to grin at her. "I can't complain."

"Since when?" I said.

"Don't listen to him," Trudy said. "We all know how much he likes you. Doris was right, he really is a teddy bear on the inside."

I raised an eyebrow over my champagne flute. "You think so?"

She eyed me slyly and sipped her drink. Around her wrists she wore an assortment of fashionable coral bracelets; they clinked against each other as she moved, drawing attention to the dark skin they concealed. Trudy watched me watching them, and then she winked at me and set her empty glass on the banister.

"I think it's time for a dance." She hooked her arm in Mick's and tugged. "Come on, I've seen you move. Let's go."

She pulled him toward the living room; Mick started to follow her, but then he hesitated, looking at Janie. She leaned in and whispered in his ear, "Later. Go have fun. The band is really good."

He gave her one of his goofy grins and let Trudy lead him outside. I watched people whisper and stare as he passed, and I chuckled into my champagne. If the full story of what happened at Janie's had gone around — and of course it had — Mick's starring role in dispatching the attackers would be prime gossip material. Before, he had been that anonymously sad boy so mistreated by Coraline; now he was a vampire who had torn apart three men to protect his girl. Their acceptance of him was assured. With a few snapped necks he had gone from curiosity to celebrity.

Janie watched them go, then turned to me. "Well, I need to make the rounds. Make yourself at home — I think you'll enjoy the crowd tonight. There are some new ones you might want to meet."

"I'll introduce him," Doris said. She held my arm a little more tightly, and I grinned.

"Not jealous, are you, sweetheart?"

She smirked. "No. I intend to make sure they're all jealous of me.:

She led me into the living room while Janie glided back into the crowd to oversee the comfort of her guests. I said my hellos to the vamps and humans I knew, and Doris introduced me to some of the new faces. The freshie recruits eyed each other; it seemed my reputation had preceded me. I smiled where necessary, flirted where advantageous, and made mental notes for future reference. 

The music, I found, was not coming from the hi-fi but the band out back, where the French doors stood open to let in the cool air and warm rhythm. The back yard was strung with lights, and as it was still too chilly to swim (for the humans at least), lanterns floated in the pool, throwing colored patterns along the walls. The band had set up under the veranda; instead of a turtleneck-wearing trio or a rockabilly band in matching jackets, this group wore guayaberas with tailored trousers and tilted fedoras, mixing popular rock-n-roll with swing tunes sung in Caló and old wartime zoot suit songs slicked up for the jukebox generation. Always ahead of the curve, these vampire parties. As Doris and I came out on the patio, they were halfway through an energetic rendition of 'Long Tall Sally' in a mix of English and Spanish; the dance floor was packed with humans working off their inhibitions and vampires working up an appetite. In the middle of the pack I saw Mick's hair bouncing as he spun Trudy around with an enthusiasm I hadn't seen from him in weeks; Trudy moved against him with a grace that turned all heads in their direction. I watched them while Doris held onto my arm.

"I wish I was out there," she said wistfully.

"You want to? I'm not that old, you know."

She laughed. "No— I mean, yes, but I have to get back inside. A hostess' duties are never done."

I pulled her a little closer. "Well that's no fun. I was hoping to get you away from that."

"And you will," she said. "But not yet." She wriggled free of me and patted my arm. "Just a little while, I promise, and then I'll make it up to you." She leaned in close to kiss me, then whispered in my ear. "I've been eating plums all day."

After she left I licked her lipstick from my mouth and finished my last sip of champagne. Hot damn, I loved these parties. A boy appeared and took my empty glass before offering me another from a tray. I started to decline — I prefer champagne after dinner, not before — but just then I felt a hesitant hand on my arm.

"Josef?"

I turned to see one of the new humans, a redhead in a dress that matched her huge green eyes, her pink skin flushed with untouched blood. She was brand new; I could smell it. When I looked at her, her heartbeat quickened, and her fingers trembled a little on my sleeve.

"Are— are you Josef?"

I raised an eyebrow, and then I took two flutes of champagne from the tray and nodded at the boy to hit the bricks. I handed one glass to her; when I smiled, the blood rose in her cheeks, and her pulse skipped up another notch. So I smiled again.  
"And you are?"

~

Janie's second debut party was as successful as her first had been. I saw her constantly over the course of the night, chatting with well-wishers, thanking gift-givers, accepting congratulations as graciously as sympathies. (A lot of people knew how much she'd loved her old house, and everyone knew her turning, while not unwelcome, had not been on her own timetable.) Night turned into late night, then early morning, and the crowd dispersed as couples and groups thanked Janie and Doris for their hospitality before leaving for more private entertainments. The band packed up, and the lanterns were extinguished; empty champagne bottles tottered in melted ice, and candles burned out in crinkled paper. Three a.m. found me wandering outside in search of Doris; I had consumed my share of champagne and blood, but I was in the mood for more satisfying sustenance.

As I walked across the empty patio I heard the thrum of guitar music. Sitting on the platform where the band had been was Mick, his collar undone, his fedora propped at a ridiculous angle on his head, strumming a guitar with his face screwed up in tipsy concentration. Beside him sat the band's guitarist, a good-looking Mexican kid with the quick smile and cocky exuberance of a young vampire. He too balanced a guitar on his knee, tapping his foot as he showed Mick what to do.

"No, not like that — you've got to strum it there. Yeah — that's it. Hey, not bad. We'll have to get you to come jam with us some time."

Mick beamed from underneath his hat. He sniffed me out then and looked up, waving when he saw me. "Hey, Josef— c'mere. I want you to meet someone. This is Guillermo Gasol — he was in the band. He's a—"

"I know," I said. "I can tell these things too, you know." I put out a hand. "Josef Kostan. Nice playing tonight."

Guillermo shook my hand with a smile. "Hey, Josef Kostan, I've heard a lot about you. It's good to put a face to a name. A lot of the vamps around here say you're a pretty cool cat."

I quirked an eyebrow. "They do?"

He shrugged. "Well, you know, you hang out with my man Mick here, so you must be OK."

"Guillermo's been showing me the songs they were doing tonight," Mick said giddily. "I can already play a few."

"Great," I muttered. "Can't wait to hear that. Hey, have either of you seen Doris?"

"She came by a few minutes ago picking up candles," Mick said. "Haven't seen her since then."

"Was that the brunette in the red dress?" Guillermo said. "Oh man, that girl is—"

"Josef's," Mick grinned.

"That's some good taste, my man. She got any friends?"

"Yeah, but you're gonna miss them if you stay out here all night teaching Mick new ways to torture me. Food goes fast at Janie's."

Guillermo laughed. "OK, Mick, we're finishing this song and calling it a night. You can pay me for the lesson by showing me where the good freshies are."

Mick hunched over his guitar, ignoring us. I said to Guillermo in Spanish, "Don't mind him. He still has a few human hang-ups to get over."

"Oh yeah, I heard about that. They told me how he was turned. That's a shame, man. Nobody deserves that. But I guess it's tough on all of us in the beginning, you know? We've all been there."

"Speak for yourself, my friend," I said. In English I added, "When you go inside, see if Betty's still here. Redhead. Green dress. Trust me."

"Hey, thanks, man. It was good to meet you, Josef. We'll all have to get together sometime."

I grinned at Mick. "I think that's very likely," I said.

As I walked inside, I heard Mick whisper, "What did he say to you?"

"He said he wanted me to teach you mariachi," Guillermo replied, and I laughed as I closed the French doors.

I eventually found Doris in the music room, where a small group of humans and vampires had gathered for an after-party party. Several ladies, Doris and Ella included, huddled around the hi-fi, passing between them an album cover that presumably matched the voice warbling from the turntable.

"There you are," I said. I glanced at the album jacket in her hand. "What's that?"

"What's this?" said Ella. "Where have you been? It's Elvis!"

"Who?"

They gaped at me. "Elvis?" Doris said. "'That's All Right'? 'Heartbreak Hotel'? He just put out a whole record. It's not even on sale yet, Ella got one of the first copies. What do you think?"

I looked at the doe-eyed, floppy-haired boy convulsing on the cover. His voice mumbled at me over the clangy guitar, and the girls around me sighed. 

"I think Mick will be buying this," I said. I took the jacket from Doris and handed it off to one of the other supplicants. "Come with me. Elvis has enough admirers."

She grinned as she took my hand and nodded her goodnight to the rest of the room. We left them to their smoke and swooning and closed the door behind us.

Doris had consumed her fair share of champagne, not enough to defeat our purposes, but enough to make her giggle and stumble a little behind me as we made our way down the hall. "I thought you'd never come get me," she said. "I was getting tired of being on my best behavior."

The house had grown quiet as the few remaining guests abandoned the main areas for the bedrooms and, in some cases, the corridors. We passed a couple pressed noisily against the wall, her leg around his thigh, his face buried in her neck. As we approached, he looked up and wiped the blood from his mouth; she opened her eyes and caught her breath, grinning at Doris.

"Betty," Doris smiled.

"Doris," Betty breathed.

"Guillermo," I nodded.

"Josef," replied Guillermo.

After we passed by I heard them laugh, and then Betty whispered something before teeth broke flesh and her giggle turned to a moan.

I looked around for Mick but never saw him — but as we rounded the corner to Doris' room, I discovered where he'd gone. His fedora sat on the table beside Janie's bedroom door; he stood on one side of the doorway, and on the other side stood Janie, her hair down and her shoes off, gazing at Mick above the bare forearm of the human pressed between them. I'd seen her talking to the young man earlier; now he leaned against her, smelling her hair, and I heard a low growl roll in Mick's throat. Janie held the boy's wrist in one hand; with the other she reached out to touch Mick's collar, and then the suspender hanging looped against his hip.

"Just taste him, Mick," she said. "You can go first."

Mick's hand clenched the door jamb. "No."

"Why not? You weren't so shy when it was me." She smelled the boy's skin, and without warning she lunged; he bit his lip against a moan and grabbed the door to steady himself. Janie broke free and held his punctured arm out to Mick. "Come on. We can share him."

Mick rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand. He took a step toward them, and I heard his heartbeat shift; he touched Janie's hand where it gripped the boy's wrist and closed his fingers around hers. He opened his mouth, his tongue creeping out to touch one fang, but then he jerked away and blurted, "No," before turning to stomp off down the hall, pushing past Doris and me in his haste to get away.

"Is he alright?" the boy said. "Should you go after him?"

"I will," Janie said. "After he calms down." She dropped his wrist and sighed. "I shouldn't have tried to rush him. Mick has to do things his own way."

"He's a fool to say no to you."

"You're sweet." She let him put his arms around her, but she was looking down the hall where Mick had disappeared; after a moment she stepped back and gently disentangled herself from the boy's embrace. "You're very sweet, but..."

"Ohhh. OK." He gave her an understanding smile. "Hey, maybe next time. Thanks again for the invite." He kissed her cheek and sauntered off down the hall toward the guest rooms, presumably to find more accommodating accommodations. 

When he was gone, Janie slumped against the door jamb. "Shit."

"You OK, honey?" Doris said. 

"You passed up that very willing freshie to wait for Mick." I put a hand to my chest. "I think I'm getting a little misty here."

The color rose in Janie's cheeks, and she flounced into her bedroom and slammed the door.

"You're so mean, Josef," Doris giggled. "Poor Janie. Can't you do something to help them?"

"Like what?"

She gave me a little smile and said nothing else. She finally got her bedroom door open and stumbled inside, pulling me along by the wrist; I drew her to me and kicked the door closed behind us, and thoughts of Mick and Janie evaporated from my mind. Doris kicked off her shoes and fell into my arms, and she laughed as she tugged at the buttons of my waistcoat.

"What are you grinning about?" she said. 

She moved against me again, warm and flushed, all red satin and white skin, perfume and champagne and the smell of plums in her rising blood. I pulled her up hard and felt her heart pound against my chest.

"This," I said, and sank my fangs into her throat before she could take off her gloves.


	12. In Your Own Sweet Way

It was a little after dawn when I emerged from Doris' room. I'd been invited to spend the day, but I wasn't quite ready to turn in yet; Doris needed some sleep, though, so I left her curled up in the sheets and pulled my trousers on before easing the bedroom door shut behind me. I didn't expect to see anyone up at this hour, so I didn't bother with shirt or shoes; instead I crept barefoot down the hall toward the kitchen to help myself to an early morning drink. All the curtains had been drawn up tight, and the house was dark as midnight; the only evidence of the sunshine outside was a thin pale thread across the top of each window. I saw no one in the halls or the front rooms, and all the heartbeats in the guest rooms were weighed down with sleep or satiation. It had been a good party.

A faint light glowed under the kitchen door. As I entered I heard another heartbeat, this one a little livelier, a pulse I recognized right away. When I saw its owner leaning against the counter beside the stove light, munching on a piece of hot buttered toast, I grinned.

"Good morning," I said.

Trudy wiped the crumbs from her mouth and smiled. "Hey there." She wore a blue negligee with a little robe thrown around it, wiggling her bare toes on the tile floor while she ate her breakfast. "Looks like we had the same idea."

"Indeed." I fetched a glass from the rack and headed for the fridge. "I didn't know you were still here."

"Yeah, Doris told me it was cool to stay the day. I had meant to come find you earlier, but then I got kind of... distracted."

"Really."

"Mm-hm." She sipped from a glass of orange juice; glancing at my state of undress, she added, "Looks like you took the loss pretty well, though."

I waggled my eyebrows at her as I opened the fridge. The contents were divided in half, the top rows filled with Doris' groceries, the bottom rows lined with dark bottles. I pulled out one of the latter and poured myself a nice cold snack. Trudy and I leaned against the counter side by side and sipped our beverages in silence. I waited till she finished her toast, and then I gave her a little nudge.

"So you think you're gonna do this? Full time, I mean."

Trudy sipped her orange juice, contemplating. "I wasn't sure at first, but yeah, I think so. It's funny — a couple months ago I was taking night classes to be a typist and cleaning houses to make my rent, and then one day I met Doris at a soda fountain and boom, here I am." She shook her head. "I never thought I'd be staying in a place like this."

"Why not?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Gee whiz, Josef, let me think."

I shook my head. "I told you, sweetheart — our world's not like their world. Vamps take you for who you are. We know what you're really worth."

"Look me in the eye and tell me I'm worth anything more to you than the blood in my veins."

The silence that followed was incredibly awkward.

Trudy laughed. "Hey, don't sweat it, honey. It's OK, really. That's my whole point. What I'm trying to say is, I like this life, and I'm gonna stay, but it's not because I couldn't make it out there. It's because I'm meant to be here. I don't need a vampire to tell me what I'm worth. I already know."

I looked at her, and then I nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, you do."

She downed the last sip of her juice. "Well. I'd better get back." She discarded her toast crumbs and set her empty glass in the sink. "It's past my bedtime. I just snuck out for a little refueling."

"Me too."

"Doris takes a lot out of you, doesn't she? That girl is insatiable." The look on my face made her laugh loudly enough to clap a hand over her mouth. When the giggles passed, she leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. "Oh, honey, you are too adorable for your own good."

"That's true," I said. I ran a finger down her neck and let it linger on her shoulder. "She's not the only insatiable one, if I recall."

"You'd better." She took my hand and threaded our fingers together, dark and light. "They say you never forget your first — if that's true, the rest of these vamps have a hell of a lot to live up to." She kissed me again, this time on the lips, and let go of my hand. "Sleep well, Josef. I'll see you later."

"You too, Trudy."

I watched her slip through the kitchen door, and as it swung closed behind her, I grinned to myself and finished my drink.

I took my time going back to Doris' room. The hall was utterly dark, but that didn't slow me down; I can see in low light just fine. I was just killing time, listening to the heartbeats in the rooms around me, enjoying each variation on the same slow rhythm, one by one, until I reached Doris' door and her pulse drowned out the rest. I stopped in front of the door and closed my eyes to listen. I could still feel her in my veins, warming me, keeping me awake; her sweat lingered on my skin, salt and plums and champagne. I smiled in the darkness. I wouldn't be sleeping for a few hours yet. I thought it was just about time for round two.

Across the hall the door opened, vampire quiet, and pale light flooded the corridor. I turned to see Janie emerge from her room, pulling a silk robe around her shoulders. She saw me and paused.

"Oh — Josef."

"Janie. Can't sleep either?"

"No." She glanced down the hall. "You haven't seen Mick, have you?"

"I've been a little busy. What, he never came back?"

"No, he did, kind of, but he left again before we could talk. He said he needed some air."

"Well the sun's up now, so he can't be far."

"Mm-hm." She peered down the hall again and sighed. She turned to me and gestured at her door. "Come in for a minute?" When I hesitated, she smirked and added, "Let Doris sleep a little longer. She needs it."

I chuckled and followed her into her bedroom. Inside, the heavy black curtains blocked out all sunlight, but a chrome torchiere glowed in every corner, reflecting off enameled furniture and framed mirrors. On the dresser, a sandalwood candle flickered in a covered pot; on the vanity, two glasses sat next to a bottle of blood sweating in a champagne bucket. Only one glass had been used. Janie stood beside the bench at the foot of the bed; it was padded in white leather, carved from the same black-lacquered wood as the headboard, inlaid with the same enamel moon burst. The bed linens had not been disturbed. Janie glanced at our half-dressed reflections in the mirror, and then she took my hands in hers and smiled.

"We didn't really get a chance to talk last night. I've been wanting to say thank you."

"For what?"

She laughed. "Oh, I don't know, for saving my life? For everything you've done for me since then? For being there when I needed you?"

I shrugged. "You're a vampire. I'm your sire. It's not a big deal."

"It's a big deal to me." She squeezed my hands. "I just thought, right now, while nobody's watching, I'd tell you that."

"Well, I appreciate that — the nobody's watching part, I mean. But don't worry about it, kiddo. I was kind of the one who got you into all this, you know, by introducing you to Mick and all, so I figured I ought to help you out of it. Us vamps got to stick together, all that stuff."

She looked down at our intertwined fingers. "You know, I'm probably being really vain here, but I always thought — ever since I was a kid, when I was first getting into all this — I always thought you were kind of looking out for me. I mean, whenever you were around, you were always a little different from the others. Everyone always told me, 'Watch out for Josef Kostan. He'll make you love him, but he'll never love you.' And I know you keep your distance from humans. Believe me, I understand why now. But I always thought that maybe... well. I guess every girl wants to think she's the special one."

"Well, if that's true," I said, "It's because I always knew you'd end up one of us. Sometimes you can see the vampire in someone, you know, years before they're turned — maybe I treated you different because somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I'd be the one to close the deal. You know, like it was meant to turn out this way. Though I could have done without all the bullets and stakes and whatnot."

She laughed again. "Yeah, me too." A little color rose in her cheeks. "I've been thinking a lot about the old days lately. I'm so glad I didn't ask you to turn me back then. To be that girl for all eternity... oh, lord." She shook her head. "You know, I had the biggest crush on you back then."

"Really? I had no idea."

"Liar. You ate it with a spoon. I thought I was going to sail in among all these vampires all classy and seductive, the Veronica Lake of freshies — and then there you were, with more sex appeal in your little finger than I'd ever come across at Immaculate Heart Young Ladies Academy. You were a lot for a teenage girl to handle."

"I'd say you handled me pretty well."

She shoved my hands away, but her blush deepened. "Now I really know what kind of restraint you showed. I don't think I could have done it, if I'd been you."

"Yeah, well." There was a slight warmth in my cheeks which I found most unpleasant. I brushed it away and tugged on the tie of her silk robe. "But hey, look at you now. Things worked out pretty well for both of us, I'd say."

"And I owe you for that too. I won't forget it, Josef." She put her palm on my chest, over the place where I'd been staked. "I won't forget what you've done for me. And what you've done for Mick. I know it means as much to him as it does to me. I just... I just wanted you to know."

"I know, kiddo."

In the soft light from the lamps, she leaned in and kissed me. Her hair smelled like sandalwood and clove cigarettes; she tasted like champagne, like Mick and Doris and that boy she'd sampled, but most of all she tasted like Janie. She slid her arms around my waist, and I closed my eyes and felt her hair spill down my arms as she pressed herself against me.

"What the hell is going on in here?"

Great.

I opened my eyes to see Mick in the doorway, scowling, his open shirt hanging wrinkled from his shoulders. He stalked into the room, glaring at me. "What do you think you're doing? Huh?"

Janie started to say something, but before she could, Mick surged forward and pushed me out of her arms. He snarled and pushed me again. Janie pulled him off me and shook him, furious.

"What is wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me? I just found Josef with his hands all over you, that's what's wrong with me!" He moved for me again, but Janie put herself between us and forced him back.

"For your information," she snapped, "I kissed him, and if I felt like it I would do it again. Who the hell do you think you are?"

"I should go," I said.

Janie pointed at me. "You stay where you are."

"Yes ma'am."

She swung her finger to Mick. "How dare you barge in here and act like you have any kind of claim on me when you've done nothing but reject me for weeks. How dare you."

"I'm not just gonna stand there and let him—"

"I am not Coraline!" Janie shouted.

Her volume and her voice shocked Mick into silence. He blinked at her, white-faced.

"I'm not your wife, I'm not your girlfriend, and I'm sure as hell not your freshie. I belong to no one but myself. Do you get that?"

Mick looked stricken. "But— we—"

"We what? Since I've been turned you haven't touched me — in fact, you've done everything you can not to. And now you're gonna act like you have some right to me? No. This ends now. If you think I'm going to take Coraline's place so you can have someone to obsess over, you are so wrong."

Her words drained the anger from him. "That's not what I want."

"Then what do you want? Huh? What do you want? Cause I've got no fucking clue." Janie crossed her arms; her robe fell off one shoulder, exposing her lace negligee. She tossed her hair back and stared him down. "Tell me what you want, Mick. Right now."

"I want you."

"Do you? Are you sure it's me you want? Or do you just want the opposite of her?"

Suddenly she leaped forward and grabbed him by the halves of his shirt. Her eyes flashed white; she bared her fangs and hissed into his face. Mick gasped and flinched back.

"This is me now," Janie said. "This is what I am. I am not the humanity you lost, Mick. You will never find that here." Her eyes cooled back to blue, and her fangs disappeared. She peered into his face and said softly, "All you'll find is me."

I could hear Mick's heart pounding, the breath catching in his throat. The knot between them tightened — the knot that every day pulled them a little more, bound them a little tighter, stretched them a little harder — the knot tightened, and again, until Mick creaked beneath the strain.

"Janie..."

I should have left them alone there, right at that moment — I should have turned and gone and left them to each other. But I didn't move. Maybe it was the champagne still fizzing with Doris' blood in my veins; maybe it was lack of sleep, or the new house, or the sum of three years' curiosity. Maybe after four centuries I took my thrills as I found them. Or maybe whatever it was that stretched between Mick and Janie had caught me in its knot too, pulling me along with them and closer toward them every night, until only I could snap the cord and set us all free.

I shrugged. Why not?

I moved to stand behind Mick. He tensed when I came close, but his eyes were fixed on Janie. Her anger had gone; she smoothed Mick's hair behind his ears and touched his face. "Go forward, or go back," she said. "You can't do both.

"There's only one way to end this," I said into Mick's ear. "Remember what I told you." I met Janie's eyes. "We're vampires. We take what we need."

Janie smiled. She slid her hands inside Mick's shirt and spread it apart until it fell to the floor at my feet. She ran her palms down his chest, around his waist, and reached out to take my hands in hers. Mick hovered between us. I could feel his heart knocking against his back. His eyes closed; he leaned into Janie until their mouths almost touched. She said his name against his lips.

Suddenly Mick shuddered and gasped, wrenched himself free — stumbled, almost fell — I grabbed him and he turned on me, fangs bared, and seized me by the shoulders to pin me back against the dresser. The ice rattled in the champagne bucket; one of the glasses tipped over and shattered on the lacquer.

"Mick!" Janie cried.

"No," I said. "He needs this. It's been a long time coming."

Mick huffed and puffed, his face inches from mine, sharp nostrils twitching, growling through his teeth. I smiled at him.

"Alright, Mick," I said. "We'll do it your way."

I shoved him back hard enough to throw him to the floor. He leaped to his feet, hissing, and I met him halfway as he came for me. I let him hit me once, twice — my lip split, and I licked the blood from my mouth before it could run down my chin. When he swung again, I caught his fist and twisted his arm behind his back, wrenching him around, and flung him face first onto the bed. Before he could get up, I pounced.

I leaped onto the bed and hauled him up; he fought me, but I was much stronger, and I yanked his arms behind him and jerked him down until his back smacked against my chest. His hips wedged between my legs; I pressed his thighs down with my knees until he stopped kicking. The more he struggled against me, the harder I squeezed.

"What are you doing?" he gasped.

"Helping you," I said. "What are friends for?" He tried to break my grip, and I twisted his arms until he yelped. "Fight me all you want, Mick, but stop fighting yourself."

I looked over at Janie, who stood by the foot of the bed, staring at us.

"Janie," I said. "Come here."

Mick's heartbeat knocked against my chest. I couldn't stop my own pulse from falling in sync; but instead of rising to meet his rhythm, I brought his down to mine, slower, thicker. His breath began to come a little harder. He stopped struggling, trembling in my grip, and his knees spread apart a little wider. He never took his eyes from Janie. She looked down at him, one hand on the white linen.

"Listen," I told her. "His heart. Listen to his heart. Do you hear it?"

Her eyes paled. "I hear it."

I waited until her pulse joined ours, and then I said: "Now, Janie."

Janie's robe joined Mick's shirt on the carpet. She climbed onto the bed between Mick's feet, nudging his knees apart, crawling up his body to settle herself atop his thighs. She kissed him once, smiling, then drew her fingertips down his chest to the place where their thighs met. She slid her hands inside his trousers and he gasped.

"Tell me you want this," she said. "Tell me this is what you want."

His eyes closed. "Yes."

She grinned as she grabbed his fly with both hands and pulled. The fabric ripped, and yet another pair of Mick's trousers was sacrificed to the vampire cause. His hips jerked between my thighs; Janie winked at me as she straddled him, her knees over mine, and she put her hands on my shoulders to bear her weight.

"This time we don't stop, Mick," she said.

She bore down, pushing him into me, and covered his mouth with hers to stifle his moan. I held them up until she found her balance; and then, bracing her hands on my shoulders, she began to move. Each time she drew back, her thighs rubbed against mine, soft whirring sounds of skin on fabric; each time she pushed forward, Mick's backbone pressed into me, hard between my spread knees. I moved against it without shame, feeling him, feeling Janie through him; as she picked up speed, I slipped a hand down long enough to rip the buttons from my own trousers and pull the heavy wool aside. I watched Janie move, her body sliding behind white lace, her fingers digging into my shoulders; Mick writhed between us, his hair in his face, his muscles moving beneath his pale skin. With one breath he stretched up to kiss Janie's throat, her mouth, her breast; with the next he pressed back into me, sliding his flesh against mine. She gasped and whispered his name; he tried to say hers, but he never got past the J.

I pushed and Janie pulled — I pulled and Janie pushed — Mick found his rhythm between us, adding his momentum to ours, faster and faster until the only sounds in the room were the creaking bed springs, three sets of gasping lungs, the small warm sounds of our bodies, and the high pitched noises coming from Mick's throat. I could feel he was close — so was Janie, and so was I. Now, I thought. Now. I pulled a hand free and wound it in Mick's hair. I jerked his head back, baring his neck, and met Janie's eyes as my fangs dropped. She smiled around her own. Her head moved right, mine moved left, and we drove our teeth in tandem into both sides of Mick's neck.

I heard his scream around the roaring in my ears. He convulsed between us, the pulses in his body matching the one pouring across my tongue. I had tasted his blood once, licked from my fingers after digging buckshot from his back, the same night I'd taken the last of Janie's human blood — now I tasted them both, and I lost myself in it until I felt my own body start to shudder. I heard teeth pierce flesh and Janie cried out, gasping over the sound of Mick's noisy gulps. _Mick_ , I thought, _Janie_ , and the noise rose up to consume me.

When I opened my eyes, I was slumped on the pillows against Janie's enameled headboard. Mick lay beside me, his head tucked beneath my chin, blood on my chest and blood on the white linen sheets. Janie sprawled across him, her cheek on his belly, her arm flung across us both. I looked at the ceiling and felt my heart slow to its usual steady rhythm. Eventually Janie stirred and raised her head; her hair was disheveled, her mouth smeared with blood. She grinned.

"Well that was fun," she said.

I patted her cheek. "Don't say I never gave you anything."

Mick twitched between us, and his eyes snapped open. He jerked his head up, but then it fell back against me and he put his hand to his forehead.

"Easy there, slugger," I said. "You're running on empty."

He eased himself up, sighing, and then his eyes went wide as he realized the body he stretched against was not Janie's but mine.

"Uh."

I grinned at his discomfort. I always did enjoy this first awkward moment — it's so cute how young vamps cling to human definitions. To increase my amusement, I reached down and twirled one of his curls around my finger, smiling sweetly.

"Feel better?"

He swatted my hand away and sat up. Janie held him steady; he looked at her rumpled negligee and blood-smeared décolletage, then turned to stare at my red-streaked chest and wet mouth. He swallowed hard, but then he looked at Janie, and a smile spread across his face.

"Yeah," he said.

She kissed him quickly and wiped his mouth with her thumb. I stretched and laced my fingers behind my head, lounging against the pillows.

"Well I'm glad that's settled, because I'm too old to do that every night. Plus now I have to take these pants to the tailor. They always get so flustered when you try to explain."

Mick had been drained too much to blush, but he dropped his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck. "Um. Yeah. Josef, um, I— I mean, you..."

I watched him squirm, beaming, before Janie swooped in to rescue him.

"You must be starving." She put a hand on his cheek. "You're cold as ice. Let's get you a drink."

She helped him off the bed and led him to the dresser. Rather than fishing out the surviving glass, she pulled the bottle from the ice and handed it to him. He downed half of it in one long swig before grimacing in distaste.

"I know, it's cold," Janie said. "What we really need is—"

Mick's nose twitched; he sniffed twice and snapped his head up to stare at the door. His eyes almost paled, and he bit his lip until the reaction passed.

"Speak of the devil," I said. "It never rains but it pours." And more loudly: "Come in. It's open."

The door creaked open and Doris appeared in the gap. I could hear her heart racing from across the room; when she saw the three of us, it ramped up another notch.

"I... I heard..."

"You're just in time, my dear," I said. "Mick has a favor he'd like to ask you."

She looked at each of us, then at Mick, and smiled slyly. She had thrown her silk wrapper on somewhat hastily; when she stepped into the room, not much was hidden from view. Rather than tying it more securely, Doris tilted her head so the light fell on the bare skin between her breasts.

"Does he?"

Mick watched her approach. My marks still swelled pink and wet on her throat; they leaked fresh drops as her blood pressure rose. She glanced at me; I winked at her and settled myself more comfortably against the pillows.

Doris' eyes glittered as she stood before Mick. She could see what her proximity was doing to him. She tossed her dark hair back from her shoulders and said, "Is there something you need, Mick?"

He inhaled her scent as his eyes paled. He hesitated, and Janie slid her arms around his waist and whispered in his ear. "She's sharing herself with you. Accept her offer."

Mick hooked an arm around Doris' waist. His nostrils twitched — he could smell me on her. He glanced at me, and I nodded; Doris put a hand on his shoulder and bared her throat, and Mick pulled her against him and drove his fangs into my marks on her neck, shivering as she cried out.

I had taken quite a bit from her already; after a few long, greedy gulps, she went heavy in Mick's arms, and I saw his eyes open. He took one more swallow, then abruptly broke free and wiped his mouth, peering at her in concern as his fangs disappeared.

"Are you alright?"

I smiled. Mission accomplished.

Doris nodded, catching her breath. "I'm fine. A little dizzy, that's all."

Janie took her by the arm. "Come sit down."

Mick followed them to the bed. He moved more steadily on his feet, and his color was already returning. I helped Doris snuggle in next to me, and Janie curled up on my other side; Mick climbed in next to her, and she turned to move her head from my chest to his. He put an arm around her and sighed. I listened to Doris' heart; it was slow, but steady, and her breath moved evenly against my neck. In a minute or two she would be asleep. The four of us lay there, barely dressed and mostly filthy, smiling in contentment as our blood dried on each other's skin.

"So," I said. "Here we are."

"Here we are," Janie said.

"I miss all the good stuff," Doris mumbled.

Janie reached over to smooth down her hair. "Don't worry, Dee. I have a feeling the good stuff has just begun."

I chuckled. "You're on your own now, kiddo. Only the first one's free."

Mick cleared his throat and looked away.

"Speaking of that," Janie said, "You owe me new sheets. Look at this mess you made."

"You've cleaned up worse," I said. "At least no one vomited this time. I mean, yet. But who knows, the day is young." I glanced down at Doris. "Well, I think I should go get Doris some juice."

She stirred against me and opened her eyes. "I'll come with you," she said. "I'm hungry."

"Me too," Janie said. She squeezed Mick's hand. "Come on. I'll put some O-pos in the warmer."

The girls climbed out of bed; they smoothed each other's hair and adjusted each other's robes for decency, then eased open the bedroom door, peering down the hall before venturing out. As they left Doris whispered something in Janie's ear, and Janie giggled and squeezed her, like two teenagers at a slumber party. Mick watched them go, grinning.

"You know," he said, "I think I'm getting used to this vampire thing."

"Imagine that," I said. "Miracles do happen."

He chuckled, but then his smile wavered a little, and he put a hand on my arm.

"Josef..."

I eyed him. "Yes, Mick?"

He ran a hand through his bedraggled hair, and then he let me go and grinned. "Nothing."

"Thatta boy."

He grabbed the bottle of blood as we passed the dresser. I snatched it from him and stole a swallow, then made a face and handed it back.

"Ugh. I don't know how you drink this stuff."

"You get used to it."

I shook my head, chuckling, and held the door for him. Together we strode down the hall toward the light coming from the kitchen. Halfway down the corridor, Mick laughed out loud.

"What a year," he said, and shook his head until his curls bounced.

"Indeed," I said. He grinned at me, and I grinned back and slapped him on the shoulder. "Can't wait to see what the sixties are like."

 


End file.
